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No. I. 


February 7th, 1891. 


Price, 25 Cents. 


THE POPULAR SERIES 

Issued Semi-Monthly. 



THE 

Outcast of Milan 

By Sylvanus Cobb, Jr. 

A Companion Story to “The Gunmaker 
of Moscow.” 


Single Numbe 7 's 25 Cents. 


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ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

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Cousin Pons is one of the most interesting characters in the 
whole r^n-e of Balzac’s wonderful creations. Balzac penetrated 
■■"human nature There is scarcely a type which 
evaded his keen eye. His cha.-2^'“.5^are types of the living, 
human world swarming at his feet. His creations are as rfiSl'Ss 
noble peaks standing out against an evening sky. In every one 
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volume you can open which does not set forth some deep human 
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think of him not as a character in a novel, but as a personage — a 
sweet and true soul— a simple enthusiast for art and beauty at 
the mercy of selfish and vulgar harpies. 



THE OUTCAST OF MILAN 


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OUTCAST OF MILAN 


A Companion Story to “ The Gun- 
maker of Moscow,” 


BY 

Sylvanus 


/ 

Cobb, Jr. 


\ 


0 



NEW YORK: 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

PUBLISHERS. 

j 

THE POPULAR SERIES t ISSUED SEMI-MONTHLY. SUBSCRIPTION PRICE, SIX DOLLARS PER ANNUM. NO. 1. 
FEBRUARY 7, 1891. ENTERED AT THE NEW YORK, N. Y., POST OFFICE AS SECOND CLASS MAIL MATTER. 


. t. 



/ 


Copyright, 1868 and 1891, 

BY ROBERT BONNER’S SONS. 


{All rights reserved.) 



> 


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■ ' c- '- V- ^ ' 

■ ■%'H' 

1 


PRESS OP 

THE NEW YORK LEDGER, 
NEW YORKt 


. 




THE 

OUTCAST OF MILAN. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE ROBBER KNIGHTS. — THE OUTCAST’S STORY. 

HE tenth century was drawing to 
a close, and the monarchs of Eu- 
rope were taking a respite from 
the labors of war and conquest. 
Petty princes were lifting their 
heads into notice, and the knights 
of Christendom, who sought only 
honorable combat, were resting 
upon their arms, but all knights 
were not thus quiet. Many there 
were who, with no other use for their weapons, 
betook themselves to the darker passes of the high- 
ways, and turned robbers. 

Towards the close of a pleasant day in mid-sum- 
mer, a young man sat alone upon the green-sward. 



8 The Outcast of Milan, 


beneath an olive tree, not many miles north of Milan. 
It was a lovely spot — a vast garden of tree and 
shrub, with fruit and flowers, with here an open 
space, and there a dense, shadowy thicket of dark- 
leaved trees. Close at hand was the highway, but 
for more than an hour no traveller had stirred the 
dust of the beaten track. The man to whom we have 
alluded could not have been more than two-and- 
twenty years of age, though his frame had reached 
the proportions and developments of athletic vigor. 
He was not taller than the average height of men, 
but when he stood erect, so straight and comely was 
he, and such a breadth of shoulders and such a swell 
of bosom did he present, that the eye, taking its -cue 
from his evident strength of nerve and muscle, gave 
him proportions of frame beyond his real measure. 
His face was somewhat bronzed by exposure, but 
his features were regular and handsome, and his eye, 
large and full, looked out with a soft, liquid light, 
seeming almost tearful when resting from the call of 
passion. His hair was very dark — almost black — 
and hung in wavy masses over his shoulders, while 
upon his lip curled a graceful moustache. His dress 
was soiled and much worn. The hose, which had 
once been a fawn-colored silk, had grown to a dingy 
brown ; the shirt, once white and fair, was stained 
and crumpled ; and the doublet of blue velvet, 
slashed with white and crimson, and edged with 
gold, had lost its newness, and in more than one 
place some of its fabric was missing. His hat was 
looped up upon one side by a silver brooch, which 
held the remains of a much abused ostrich plume. 


The Robber Knights, 


9 


A faded red sash confined his shirt about the loins, 
also holding his sword-scarf in its place. 

The youth arose from his recumbent posture, and 
gazed about him. 

“ Where to-night ?” he muttered, in a half mourn- 
ful tone. He took out his purse — a net-work of silk 
and gold — and held it up between his eye and the 
horizon. “ Empty — the last denier gone ! For my 
bed the warm earth will answer, but this body of 
mine will not thrive upon fruits and herbs. I must 
have bread and meat. And my poor garments — they 
will not stand me much longer. This is my only 
possession which moth doth not corrupt.” 

As he thus spoke he drew his sword from its 
scabbard, and gazed upon it with a fond look. The 
blade was long and stout, as bright as when first it 
came from the hand of its maker, and evidently of 
the finest metal. The hilt was of silver, inlaid with 
flowers of gold, and in the pommel was set a pure 
carbuncle of rare brilliancy and large size. 

“ As yet,” he said, still gazing upon his weapon, 
“ thou hast never been drawn in a dishonorable 
cause, but how long it shall be so God only knows. 
I must either turn my heart away from Milan, and 
bid farewell to the home of my birth, or I must find 
some means of sustenance where honor stands not 
in the way. If I join the robber knights I may do 
more than find bread and meat — I may find some 
means of revenge upon my enemy. O, Saint 
Ambrose help me in this strait. My father’s son 
must not come to dishonor 1” 

As he ceased speaking he cast his eye to the north- 


lO 


The Outcast of Milan, 


ward, and saw what appeared a party of horsemen 
coming from the direction of Monza. They were 
upon the brow of a hill, and as they came down the 
slope he saw that they were six in number, and that 
they were clad in glistening armor. 

“Who can this be, in such knightly array, I 
wonder,“ he said to himself, as he watched the party 
descend the hill. “ They are not robbers, for those 
gentry never appear in bright armor. They are 
rather those who come armed against the robbers.” 

In a little while the party had descended the hill, 
and were lost to view behind intervening trees, and 
as the youth was upon the point of sitting down 
again upon the grass, he saw another party of horse- 
men issuing from a wood to the left. They were 
twelve in number, and were clad in black armor. 

“ Now, by my soul,” cried the observer, “ we are 
to have a clash. This smells of conflict. These 
black rascals are of the robber band, and yonder 
bright armed travellers are marked.” 

By and by the first party came into sight again, 
and as they approached, the black knights drew 
back into the wood. The watcher could see both 
parties, and he knew that they must soon come 
together. The travelers were now so near that he 
could distinguish their bearing, and he knew them to 
be gentlemen. Four of them were stout knights, 
one seemed to be a servant, while the sixth was 
without armor, and apparently but a mere boy. 
They rode on at an easy canter, laughing and chat- 
ting, thinking, probably, that all danger had been 
left behind them. But they were soon to be unde- 


The Robber Knights. 


1 1 


ceived. As they emerged from behind a grove of 
olives, and entered upon the open plain, the robber 
knights came sweeping from their cover, and, with a 
wild battle-cry, dashed forward to the onset. 

“God and Saint , Stephen defend us!” cried the 
leader of the traveling party, and as he spoke he and 
his armed companions brought their lances to a rest, 
with their youthful companion behind them. 

“ This will never do,” said the watcher. “ Those 
gentlemen will be quickly swept down if they do not 
have help. It must not be said that a Vendorme 
refused his help to a suffering fellow. Come, now, 
my faithful blade — live or die. I’ll have a hand in 
this !” 

By a short cut he reached the place of meeting 
just as the onset took place. 

“ What ho !•” he shouted, at the top of his voice ; 
“ are ye not rather near to the city of Milan for such 
dastard work ? Give way. Twelve against six is 
cowardly !” 

“ Ho, ho,” returned the robber chieftain, “ here we 
have the duke’s outcast ! If you would save your 
head. Master Vendorme, get thee gone quickly.” 

“ Not if thou meanest harm to these honest 
travelers.” 

“ What meanest thou ?” 

“ I mean to fight, if ye do not leave these gentle- 
men to pursue their way in peace.” 

Upon this the robber-chieftain laughed outright, 
and in a moment more he poked his lance derisively 
at the intruder. But he did not advance his lance a 
second time, for with one sweep of his sword the 


J2 The Outcast of Milan, 


adventurer cleft it in twain, and on the next instant 
the chief lay dead upon the ground. As soon as the 
robbers saw that their leader was dead, three of them 
turned upon Vendorme, as though they would make 
quick work with their vengeance. 

“ How now, outcast,” one of them cried. “ We 
would have given you a station of power with us, 
and now you turn against us. But your doom is 
sealed. Take that !” 

The robber’s lance was turned from the youth’s 
body as though it had struck a surface of solid rock, 
and before he could recover himself he was thrown 
from his saddle, and his neck pierced through and 
through. 

Vendorme now sprang to where the fight was 
gathering thick and hot around the travelers ; and, 
sounding the war-cry of God and Saint Ambrose, he 
plunged headlong into the fray. He fought like one 
who had no life to lose, and where his sword fell blood 
was sure to follow. His bright blade seemed to have 
a charmed power, for beneath its strokes the stoutest 
armor yielded, and nothing could stay the fury of its 
passage. 

“The outcast has a charmed body,” cried one of 
the robbers, as he drew back from the fray, with his 
lance shivered, and his sword broken. “ Thrice 
have I laid the edge of my sharp sword upon his 
ragged doublet, and the effect was as though I had 
struck thin air.” 

“By Saint Michael !” chimed another of the rob- 
bers, “ I’ll try what virtue there is in my good 


The Robber Knights. 13 


sword. What ho, thou rruiddling villain, go wet the 
grass with thy blood !” 

The sword descended upon Vendorme’s bosom, 
but without effect. 

“You chop at a charmed body, dog!” said^ the 
youth, and in a few minutes more he had laid the 
robber dead at his feet. 

By this time the black villains began to waver, 
and when two more of their number had fallen they 
drew back and retreated towards the wood. There 
were but five of them on the retreat, for seven of 
their party lay dead upon the earth. Of the true 
knights not one had been slain, for they had fought 
stoutly, and had proved that they were used to war, 

“ Now, gentlemen,” said our hero, as he wiped his 
sword upon his doublet, and returned it to its 
scabbard, “ you can pursue your way in peace. I do 
not think the rascals will trouble you again.” 

“ Nay, nay,” cried the boy, who had been sitting 
out of harm’s way, but yet with his sword drawn, as 
though ready to defend himself should the need 
come. “ Nay, nay, my friend ; we go not on until 
we know to whom we are indebted for this wonder- 
ful preservation. This, fair sir, is Gasper Vogel. 
This next is Frederic Von Brunt. And this is Lud- 
wig Eberhard. And this, John de la Partilla, — all 
true and noble gentlemen, and knights of Saxony. 
And I, sir, am a mere boy, as you see, and am called 
Theodore of Hartburg. My father was a worthy 
knight, and a successful general ; and out of the 
love the}^ bore for him these kind friends give me 
their companionship and protection. This other 


H 


The Outcast of Milan. 


individual,” continued the youthful speaker, point- 
ing to the only man of the party who had not been 
noticed, “is a precious rascal, as you can see by his 
very looks. His name is Gaspard, and he calls him- 
self my servant. Still he is a faithful fellow, and I 
think I love him. There, sir, — I have been frank 
with you, as I have reason to be ; and now may we 
not know to whom we are indebted ?” 

The speaker was a fair-haired youth, not over 
sixteen years of age ; rather slight of frame ; and 
with a face of intellectual beauty. His eye was keen 
and bright, and its changing light possessed a mar- 
vellous power ; for Vendorme bowed beneath its 
influence, and at once took the boy to his soul of 
confldence. The four gentlemen who had been 
presented to him as knights of Saxony, were stout, 
athletic men, who showed by their very bearing that 
they were at home in battle. And Master Gaspard, 
though but a servant, was not a foeman to be 
despised. He was short of stature, but broad and 
heavy of frame, with a frank, manly face, full of 
honest humor. 

“ Fair sir,” spoke our hero, addressing the youth, 
“ I perceive that you have authority, and I would 
refuse you nothing ; but I am a poor outcast, as you 
must already have heard, and further than that it 
would not interest you to know.” 

“ I claim no authority,” said Theodore of Hart- 
burg ; “but I tell you plainly that through certain 
influential friends I have considerable power ; and if 
you are in need, I may help you. Upon my soul, 
good sir, we owe our lives to you, and it would be 


The Robber Knights, 


15 


poor recompense if I, who am wealthy, should leave 
you with only empty thanks. Come — you are poor. 
Ah — don’t blush. It is no dishonor to be poor.” 

“ Aye, fair sir,” cried Vendorme, after a little 
hesitation, “ I am poor — so poor that I have not even 
one denier that I can call my own.” 

“ But how came it ? Do you not belong here- 
abouts ?” 

“Yes, sir. Milan is my native place.” 

“ Do you return to the city to-night ?” Vendorme 
shook his head. 

“ Good, kind sir,” said he who had been called 
Eberhard, and who was of commanding presence, 
“ we would help you if you need help, for we would 
pay the debt we owe you. We have need of rest ; 
and, while our horses crop the grass awhile, we will 
sit here and hear your story.” 

“ Good,” cried Theodore. “ I like that. Come — 
let us sit.” 

Our hero could not refuse the request which was 
thus earnestly pressed upon him. Who his com- 
panions were he knew not ; but he felt sure that 
they were honest men ; and he furthermore 
believed that they were men of wealth and power. 
It was towards the boyish Theodore that he turned 
with the most sympathy, and to him he told his 
story. 

“ I shall not make many words, fair sir, in my 
account of myself, for the subject is hardly worthy 
of it. Know, then, that my name is Orlando 
Vendorme. My father was Roderic Vendorme, and 
he was accounted the best armorer of Milan. He 


i6 


The Outcast of Milan. 


made this sword of mine, which has never yet bat- 
tered its edge ; and he made the shirt of mail which 
I wear beneath my doublet, and which neither spear 
nor blade can penetrate.” 

“Aha,” interrupted Theodore, “ now I see where 
the charm was that protected you against the blows 
of the robbers.” 

“ Yes, my lord.”* Vendorme applied this title to 
the boy, for as the latter had thrown open his 
doublet he exposed to view the insignia of a count 
glittering upon his breast. 

Theodore of Hartburg smiled, and Orlando pro- 
ceeded. 

“ Not many years ago my father died, and left me 
not only master of his property, but also master of 
his trade ; and for some months I worked at my 
calling contented and happy. One day I received an 
order from Manfred, Duke of Milan, to wait upon 
him at his palace. I went, and he wanted me to make 
him a shirt of mail that could resist the stroke of the 
keenest sword, and I readily undertook the task. 
One evening, while I was waiting in the duke’s closet 
a lady came in ; and as she, too, wished to see his 
highness, she sat down near me. I had the garment 
of mail in my hand, almost completed, and when she 
saw it, and knew what it was, she had a curiosity to 
know how it was made. She drew nearer to me, and 
I explained to her, as best I could, the mysteries of 
the intricate network. She seemed deeply interested 
in my story, and when I had concluded, she 
declared that she would have a garment of mail 
made for herself. She said she might at some time 


The Robber Knights. 


17 


need it. Shortly afterwards she heard the duke 
coming, and quickly left the room ; and when I 
described her to some of the attendants, and asked 
who she was, they told me she was the Princess 
Rosabel. She was a daughter of John, Count of 
Bergamo, who had died some years before, leaving 
his child in charge of Manfred. 

“ After making this discovery I imagined that I 
should see the princess no more ; but in this I was 
mistaken. Not many days after that, while I was at 
work in my shop, she came to see me. She had but 
a single attendant, whom she left at the door of the 
hall ; and when she had thrown off her hood I was 
so dazzled by her beauty that I must have been 
almost insolent in my gaze. She was as fair as the 
evening star, and as lovely in the mild sweetness of 
her look- as the fabled houri of the Moslem. 

“ I need not tell you all that passed. She 
remained with me an hour, keeping me busy all the 
time exhibiting different styles and qualities of arms 
and armor. On the following day she came again ; 
and this time she made a revelation that startled me 
as though a lightning-bolt had burst before my eyes. 
She told me she had been seeking for a friend ; but 
that among all the throng at her guardian’s palace 
there was not one whom she dared to trust. She 
had seen me when I first called upon the duke, and 
she had sent her servants to inquire concerning my 
character. She said she had learned that I was 
honorable and upright, and me she had determined 
to trust. Aye — more than that : she threw herself 
upon my protection. It had been decreed that she 


i8 


The Outcast of Milan. 


should marry with the Prince Ludovico, the son of 
Duke Manfred, and the duke had sworn that the mar- 
riage should soon take place. She loathed the 
prince — she hated and despised him, for he was ugly 
and churlish ; and, moreover, he was known to be an 
unprincipled debauchee. Her refusal to take him 
for a husband, availed her nothing, for Manfred was 
her lord and guardian, and his will was law. She 
would rather die than sacrifice herself to the embrace 
of the foul wretch ; and as a last resort she had 
sought me. She sought me because she believed 
that I was honorable and that I would not take 
advantage of her unfortunate situation. 

“ As soon as I could control my speech, I sank 
upon my knees, and bade the princess to command 
me. She raised me to my feet, and told me she 
would trust me. She asked me to give her a small 
dagger, which she could carry in her bosom, and 
when I had done so she went away. Two days after- 
wards she came again ; and, as before, she left her 
attendant in the hall. 

“And here, gentlemen, I may as well tell you as 
at any time — I had not only fallen passionately in 
love with the beautiful princess, but she had con- 
ceived a like emotion for me. I saw it in the dewy 
light of her melting eye, and in the tremulous melody 
of her voice. Driven to desperation at the prospect 
of being forced to wed with the wicked Ludovico she 
had sought the first help that came in her way. So 
our meeting was accidental, and our love was the 
result of circumstances over which we had no con- 
trol. When Rosabel had confessed that she loved 


The Robber Knights, 


19 


me, I was stricken with a new fear. How could we 
ever be united ? She said she would flee with me to 
some land where Manfred’s power could not reach 
us. I hinted that she was sacrificing too much for 
me. ‘ No,’ she cried. ‘ No, no, dear Orlando, it is 
you who are sacrificing. I have nothing to lose, but 
everything to gain ; while you leave your home 
where prospects are bright before you.’ 

“ In this way she made me feel that circumstances 
had brought her down to my level, and the arrange- 
ments were partially made for our flight. But we 
were doomed to a bitter disappointment. The ser- 
vant who had accompanied Rosabel to my house 
proved treacherous. She had overheard our plans, 
/ind in hope of some great gain, she revealed them 
to the duke. Manfred was savage beyond all rea- 
son. He satisfied himself that the story of the ser- 
vant was true, and then he proceeded in his work of 
revenge. He cast the princess into a narrow cham- 
ber, beneath lock and key, and to me he did the 
worst that he could do. He confiscated my property, 
and cast me out from the city ; and his edict was, 
that if I was found within the gates of Milan again, 
I should suffer instant death. I came forth from my 
native city an outcast and a wanderer, with my 
father’s sword about my loins, and a single sequin in 
my pocket. That was two months ago. I should 
have left Lombardy long ago, but I cannot tear myself 
away. Something whispers to me that I may yet see 
Rosabel again. I have heard that she is sick, and 
that on account of her sickness her union with Ludo- 
vico has been postponed. 


20 


The Outcast of Milan, 


“ Such, gentlemen, is my story. If you think I 
have been foolish, I beg you will spare me your 
criticisms. That I have been very unfortunate no 
one can dispute.” 

Theodore of Hartburg wi 



outcast’s story; for he was 


love interested him. After meditating a while, he 
said to our hero: 

“Go and catch our horses; and when you return 
I may have something to say unto thee.” 

Vendorme did as he was directed, and while he 
was gone the Saxons held close converse together. 


CHAPTER II. 


THE SILVER CROSS. 


When Orlando returned with the horses, Theodore 
of Hartburg was ready to receive him. 

“ I have been talking with my companions,” said 
the boy-count, “ and we find that we must do some- 
thing for you. But you will understand this one 
thing to begin with: We do nothing in charity — we 
but pay you what is your due. So that point is 
settled. Your story has more than interested us — 
it has warmed us in your favor; and we are inclined 
to help you as we can. Is there not a tournament of 
some kind on the way of preparation in Milan?” 

“Yes,” replied our hero. “ There is one to come 
off in two weeks, or thereabouts.” 


The Silver Cross. 


21 


“ Were ever you in armor?” 

“Very often,” said Orlando, with a smile. “For 
two years I taught the use of the lance, axe and 
sword; and some of the best swordsmen in Milan 
have been my pupils.” 

“ You must have been very young for a teacher of 
such exercise,” remarked de la Partilla. 

“ Sol was,” returned our hero; “but my father 
was accounted the most excellent teacher in all 
Lombardy; and as I was strong of my age, with the 
advantages of early and constant education, I became 
an expert very soon after I advanced from boy- 
hood.” 

“Good!” exclaimed Theodore, with real boyish 
delight. “ If that is the case we can help you most 
surely. We’have seen enough of your prowess to 
know that you would be next to invincible if you 
were armed in true knightly style. Do you not think 
you could bear off the duke’s prize at the tourna- 
ment?” 

“ I should like to try,” said Orlando, modestly. 
“ But,” he quickly added, in a mournful tone, “ that 
privilege is forever denied me. I am not a knight, 
and never can be.” 

“There is no knowing what may happen in the 
time to come,” suggested Ludwig Eberhard. 

“ But,” continued Vendorme, “ even were I, by 
some golden opportunity, to win knightly spurs, I 
am debarred from entering Milan.” 

“ How so?” 

“ The duke’s edict.” 

“ You forget,” said de la Partilla. “ Within the 


22 


The Outcast of Milan, 


confines of Christendom no governor can refuse 
passage to a true and sworn knight. The golden 
spur would be your passport back to Milan had you 
been twenty times banished; and he must first 
reverse your shield for some good and sufficient 
cause who would expel 5^ou from his dominions. 
However, I but take up time. The evening is 
approaching, and we must be on our way.” 

“ I wish to make a bargain with you,” said 
Theodore. “If you ever get back to Milan, will 
you make me a shirt of mail like that which you now 
wear ?” 

“ I will, most certainly,” replied Orlando. 

“Then,” resumed the boy, “this is a matter of 
business, and I shall pay you a part of the purchase 
money in advance. Here is a purse containing one 
hundred sequins.” 

“ But,” said our hero, “ I may never make it.” 

“ Never mind. That is my affair. Take the 
money, and when the armor is ready I will call for 
it. And now I have one thing further to say unto 
you. Where you ever in Modena ?” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ You have heard of the Count Alfonso ?” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Here is a note which I have written to him. It 
is not sealed, for it is in a cypher which I think you 
cannot read. Alfonso is a friend of mine — he was a 
near and dear friend of my father — and he must 
have this within four days. Will you carry it to 
him ?” 

“ The distance,” said Orlando, musingly, “ is not 


The Silver Cross. 


23 


over forty leagues. I can take one of these horses 
which the robbers have left, and reach Modena with 
time to spare.” 

“ And you will go ?” 

Yes.” 

“Then take the note, and deliver it into Alfonso’s 
own hands, and whatever answer he gives you, you 
will bring to Milan. If you are faithful in this I do 
not think you will ever regret the hour that brought 
you into contact with Theodore of Hartburg.” 

Thus speaking, the boy vaulted to his saddle, and 
when his companions had followed his example, 
they all rode away towards the distant city. 

Orlando Vendorme watched the party until they 
had disappeared beyond an olive grove, and then he 
looked upon the bit of parchment which he held in 
his hand. The writing was in characters entirely 
unknown to him, and had been hastily done with a 
sharp leaden point. The signature was a quaint 
monogram, looking very much like a wolf bearing a 
circle upon its back. 

“ Here is an adventure,” the outcast cried, as he 
thrust the scroll into his bosom. “Upon my soul, I 
cannot see through it ; but I’ll follow it out. Let 
it win or fail, it cannot leave me worse off than it 
finds me. So here goes for Modena.” 

Without any difficulty he secured one of the best 
of the stray horses, and was soon on his way. For 
an hour or two he urged the beast at a pretty smart 
gallop, for he had no desire to be overhauled by the 
discomfited robbers. Before dark he reached the 
little town of St. Donato, where he stopped for the 


24 


The Outcast of Milan. 


night. When he went to his chamber, he drew forth 
the parchment, and examined it by the light of the 
candle. His curiosity to know what was written in 
the body of the note was not great ; .but he did feel 
a great curiosity to know who had written it. Who 
was Theodore of Hartburg? It was a question 
more easily asked than answered, and after a while 
our hero put up the quaint monogram, and went to 
bed. On the following morning he was early astir, 
and before another night he had crossed the Po and 
stopped at Piacenza, where he purchased a suit of 
clothes a little more becoming to an individual who 
was about to visit a prince. On the next day he 
made an early ride to Parma ; and by the middle of 
the following afternoon he was in Modena. He 
sought a respectable inn, where he passed the 
remainder of the day, and on the next morning, at 
an hour when he learned that the count gave 
audience, he sought the palace ; and, in his turn, he 
was admitted to the prince’s presence. 

Alfonso of Modena was a large, handsome man, 
fifty years of age, and was accounted one of the 
wisest rulers in Italy.* He received our hero kindly, 
and asked what his business was. 

“ I have a letter for you, my lord,” replied 
Orlando, advancing and extending the parchment. 

The count took it, and when he had cast his eyes 
upon the monogram he gazed up with a curious look 
upon his visitor. 

“Where did you get this ?” 

“Near to Milan, my lord, I met a party of trav- 
elers, who represented themselves as knights of 


The Silvei'’ 'Cross. 


25 


Saxony. They were set upon by a band of robbers 
twice their number, and I helped them to overcome 
the foe. One of them was a youth — hardly passed 
beyond his boyhood — and he gave me this missive 
for your highness.” 

“ Do you know who he was ?” 

“ Only that he called himself Theodore of Hart- 
burg.” 

The count returned to the parchment, and when 
he had read its contents, he looked again upon our 
hero. This time there was a smile upon his face, 
and his expression was friendly. 

“ Art thou Orlando Vendorme ?” 

“ Yes, my lord.” 

“And do you know why you have been sent 
hither ?” 

“ No.” 

“ Do you imagine it was for good, or ill ?” 

“ I cannot tell, my lord ; but 1 should judge that 
a youth of such honest appearance would not, in 
return for the service I did him, send me on a 
mission of evil.” 

“ You are right. You have been sent here for 
something of benefit. But tell me, whither was 
Theodore traveling ?” 

“I do not know whether he went beyond Milan or 
not ; but I judged, from what he said, that he would 
be in Milan in the course of a few weeks.” 

“ Do you know who were with him ?” 

“ Yes, my lord. There were Gasper Vogel ; Fred- 
eric Von Brunt ; Ludwig Eberhard ; and John de la 
Partilla, all knights of Saxony—” 


26 


The 0 tit cast of Milan. 


“And all true gentlemen,” cried the count. 

“ And,” added Orlando, “ there was a fellow called 
Gaspard, who seemed to be a servant to Theodore.” 

“ Aye — I know the fellow well.” 

“ Perhaps, my lord, you can tell me who this 
Theodore is.” 

“ He is a friend of mine, sir ; and one to whom I 
feel bound to grant any favor he may ask. I am 
deeply indebted to him through his father. But, let 
your curiosity touching the young lord of Hartburg 
pass for now, and listen to the word he has sent to 
me. I will show you what return he makes to you 
for the service you have rendered him.” 

Alfonso turned to his page. 

“Go find the herald,” he said, “and bid him 
attend me here with four of my trusty knights.” 

After the page had gone, Alfonso asked our hero 
some questions touching himself, and finally learned 
that he had been banished from Milan by the Duke 
Manfred. 

“ I knew your father well,” said the count ; “ and 
I am indebted to you through him. He gave me 
my first lessons in the use of arms ; and he made for 
me the armor which I wear when I would be safe 
from the strokes of lance and sword. So, you see, 
I obey the request of Theodore with some pleasure 
to myself. Ah — here comes my herald.” 

The individual thus alluded to — a middle aged 
man, bearing a golden staff — entered the audience- 
chamber, followed by four gentlemen who wore 
jewelled crosses upon their breasts. 

“ Sir Herald, and you, noble gentlemen of my 


The Silver Cross, 


27 


household — I have called you to assist me in a work 
I have in hand.” The count spoke thus to the new- 
comers, and then he turned and gave some farther 
directions to his page, who again left the apartment. 
After this he arose and came down from his high 
chair. 

“Orlando Vendorme,” he said, “before these 
gentlemen, Knights of the Silver Cross — I command 
you to kneel.” 

In a maze of wonder and almost weak from the 
force of the startling suspicion that burst upon him, 
the outcast of Milan sank upon his knees, with his 
head bowed upon his folded hands. 

“ Orlando Vendorme,” continued the count, in a 
solemn tone, “lam about to make you a Knight 
of the Silver Cross ; but before that distinguished 
honor can be conferred upon you it becomes neces- 
sary that you should bind yourself by a solemn oath. 
This oath is one which no true Christian need fear 
to take. With this assurance from me have you any 
objections to taking the oath ?” 

In a low, tremulous whisper, Orlando replied that 
he had not. 

Alfonso then pronounced the oath in short, 
measured sentences, and Orlando was required to 
repeat it after him, the four knights, who had drawn 
around the kneeling candidate, also joining in the 
repetition. The vows thus taken were not hard ones. 
The neophyte bound himself to maintain the honor 
of all Christian establishments ; to protect the 
widow and the orphan ; to respect the character of 
woman under all circumstances ; to defend virtue 


28 


The Outcast of Milan. 


even with his life ; never to draw his sword in a dis- 
honorable cause ; and never to sheath it through 
fear. These and some other vows he took upon 
himself, binding himself to their observance under 
penalty of losing his spurs and cross, and also his 
life, should he violate or transgress them. 

Then the four knights clapped their hands and 
stamped their feet, and the count drew his sword 
and laid its blade upon the youth’s shoulders, pro- 
nouncing, as he did so, these words : 

“ Sir Orlando, I bid you rise ; and I greet thee as 
a Brother of our Sacred Tie. Thou art a Knight of 
the Silver Cross from this time forth, till some deed 
of thine own shall forfeit thee thy life. Let me com- 
mend thee to God for wisdom ; to Christ for hope ; 
and to your oath for cause to walk and act as 
becometh a true knight !” 

As Orlando arose, the count took him by the hand, 
and introduced him to the four knights who had 
assisted in the service ; and the herald was then 
directed to make proclamation of what had been 
done, and also to see that it was put upon record. 

One of the knights Orlando had seen before — Sir 
Marco Torquedo — and the others seemed equally 
pleased to greet him. 

Sir Orlando,” said Alfonso, you have reached a 
station of rare honor. Upon the battle-field, or in the 
tournament, you may vie with kings and emperors.” 

“ I know — I know,” replied our hero, still trem- 
bling with excitement. “ I know that I have been 
made a knight; but I can hardly realize it. It 
seems too much to believe,” 


The Tournament, 


29 


“ Nevertheless it is true,” said the count. “ And 
here comes my page with your badge. This cross I 
place upon your breast, and I assure you that no 
mark more honorable can ever be put upon you. 
Marco Torquedo shall put on your spurs; and while 
you see him upon his knees thus investing you, you 
will not fail to be reminded that no service can be 
degrading which we may be called upon to render 
to a true and worthy brother of our order.” 

A silver cross, set with brilliants, was pinned upon 
Orlando’s left breast; and the golden spurs were 
placed upon his heels; and while he wiped the tears 
of joyous emotion, from his eyes, Alfonso again 
spoke: 

“ Thus, my brother, have I obeyed the command 
of Theodore of Hartburg. Other business now 
demands my attention. If you will accompany 
these worthy gentlemen they will present you with 
a suit of armor befitting your station.” 


CHAPTER III. 

THE TOURNAMENT. 

Manfred, Duke of Milan, was in his closet, pacing 
to and fro with his hands behind him. He was a 
square-built, short-necked man, of middle age, with 
a lowering brow and a deeply sunken eye. His face 
bore marks of intellect, but the powers of his mind 


30 


The Outcast of Milan, 


were subservient to the passions of his grosser 
nature. He was of a powerful frame, and had been 
accounted one of the most efficient knights in Lom- 
bardy. 

Directly the door of the closet opened, and a 
female entered. She was young — not yet twenty — 
and one of the fairest creatures upon which the eye 
of man ever rested. She was dressed in a plain 
garb of gray silk, and her motions were in keeping 
therewith. She moved slowly and mournfully, and 
upon her sweet face was seated a cast of deepest 
melancholy. This was Rosabel of Bergamo, an 
orphan, and a ward of Manfred’s. 

How now, Rosabel?” the duke demanded, stop- 
ping in his walk as soon as the maiden entered. 
“ Why do you make your appearance in such a 
garb? Do you mean to insult me?” 

“ Indeed not, my lord,” replied Rosabel, in solemn 
accents. “ Such a thing is far from my thoughts. 
You sent for me, and I have come as your messen- 
ger found me.” 

“Well, well, I did not mean to accuse you, so put 
on a little pleasanter look if you can. To-morrow you 
are to preside at the tournament, and I shall expect 
you then to appear in a manner becoming to your 
station. Noble knights will be present from all 
parts of Lombardy, and I hear that some Saxon 
knights are in the city. I trust, my lady, that you 
will so demean yourself on the morrow as to wipe 
out the stain that rests upon you.” 

“ Stain, sir?” repeated Rosabel, a quick flush 
passing over her face. 


The Totirnament, 


31 


“Yes, I mean lU Your strange and unaccounta- 
ble conduct a few weeks ago cast a stain upon your 
name. I trust you wish not to dispute it." 

“ I shall not dispute you, my lord, for you have a 
right to your opinion, but you will allow me to say 
that I feel no shame in the memory of the event." 

“ Beware^ Rosabel! You are treading upon dan- 
gerous ground. I do not' like to hear you speak such 
words. You will please me if you are more careful. 
But we had better drop that subject now. You will 
be ready for duty to-morrow?" 

“ Yes, sir." 

“The victor must be crowned by the Princess 
Rosabel, and I shall look to see you perform your 
task with queenly grace. You will be ready by the 
middle of the forenoon." 

Rosabel promised that she would do the best she 
could, and she was then suffered to retire. 

Shortly afterwards the door opened again, and 
this time a man entered — a young man, of some three 
or four-and-twenty. There was no need of ques- 
tioning his paternity. In all but the mark of years 
he was the exact counterpart of the duke. He had 
the same broad, heavy frame, the same bull-like 
neck, the same lowering brow, and the same sensual 
mouth and eye. He was Ludovico, Manfred’s son 
and only child. If physical strength and mere brute 
force could make a man, then the prince might lay 
some claims to manhood, for he possessed coarse 
muscle enough, and was, moreover, a noted bravo. 

“ Now, Lodovico, how goes the play ? Have you 
made a passage to-day?" 


32 


The Outcast of 


“Aye — that have I,” returned the prince, rubbing 
his hands with evident satisfaction. 

“ Ah — and I can see that you have come off the 
victor.” 

“ Surely I have.” 

“ But who were the contestants against thee ?” 

“ There were three of them.” 

“ Not all together ?” 

“No, but Hugh de Castro was the third one.” 

“What ! And have you met and overcome my 
captain ?” 

“ Verily have I.” 

“ Then by Saint Ambrose, you need not fear, for I 
have held Hugh de Castro to be the best lance in 
Lombardy, and I know that he is accounted the 
stoutest knight. But was the joust a fair one ? Did 
you meet him openly?” 

“ Aye — I met him upon an even footing, lance to 
lance and sword to sword — two separate bouts — and 
I overcame him in both. He acknowledged the 
defeat.” 

“ Then, my son, to-morrow’s day is yours. If you 
have worsted Hugh de Castro, you may safely chal- 
lenge any knight who may make his appearance at 
our tournament. I shall expect great deeds on the 
morrow. We must make it a brilliant time. Some- 
thing must be done to entertain the people, for they 
are growing restive. I must stop their grumbling.” 

“ At what do they grumble ?” 

“ O, they find matter in their own fancies for com- 
plaint. They think that the interests of the city are 


The Tournament. 




not properly looked after, and that the marts of 
trade are not sufficiently protected." 

“ In short," added Ludovico, with a dark scowl, 
“ they say that Manfred oppresses them." 

“ Yes, my son," replied the duke, biting his lips. 

“ I have heard the complaints," continued the 
prince, “ and some of the rascals are open in their 
noisy clamor. They say you tax them too much ; 
and that in return you do not afford them the pro- 
tection to which they are entitled. I have heard 
these things until my ears have heard enough ; and 
the sooner we put a stop to it the better." 

“ Ah, my son, that is not so easily done." 

“ Give the power into my hands, and I’ll soon stop 
it. I’ll hang every man that dares to complain. 
Serve a few of the snarling dogs thus, and the rest 
would soon keep quiet." 

“ I would like to do it, Ludovico — but 'twould not 
be safe now. We’ll give the rascals some entertain- 
ment, and thus encourage the hucksters ; and, my 
son, if you bear away the prize to-morrow, it will 
help wonderfully to bring the masses to our feet ; 
for these villains have some pride in the success of 
their own princes, and if you bear down all foreign 
champions, you will command the praises of these 
discontented ones." 

“ Sir, if that will help you with our subjects, be 
sure you shall be helped," cried Ludovico, with a 
self-assured clap of his hands. “I am resolved to 
succeed. My arm is strong, and my heart is firm ; 
and a stronger knight than any in Milan must come 
if any opposition is to bear me down." 


34 


The Outcast of Milan. 


“ I am glad to hear you say so, my son ; and, what 
is more, I feel assured that you will succeed." 

“ And now," pursued the prince, speaking in a 
lower tone, “ what of Rosabel ? How much longer 
is she to toy and trifle with us ?" 

“ Not much," replied. the duke with energy. “ She 
has recovered from her illness ; and when this tour- 
nament is over, we will turn our attention to the 
nuptials." 

“ By the spirits of night," exclaimed the prince, 
stamping his foot upon the floor, “ I am not to be 
put off longer by the whinings of a sick girl. I 
know her disposition, and I know’ with what feel- 
ings she regards myself ; but it is all one to me. 
The castle of Bergamo goes with Rosabel's hand, 
and that castle I am bound to have." 

“ And that castle you shall have !" added Manfred. 
“As soon as the tournament is over, and the settle- 
ments made, you shall have Rosabel of Bergamo for 
your wife, even though she be sick in her bed. So 
rest assured touching that matter." 

“Have you heard from the young armorer since 
he left Milan ?" 

“ I heard from him once, and he was then pursu- 
ing his way to the northward, begging as he went. 
We will have no more trouble from him." 

“ I hope not," said Ludovico, musingly. “ Should 
he ever make his appearance here again he would 
have many friends. He was popular with the rabble. 
He was the leader in all their sports, and their 
teacher in athletic exercises ; and I have heard that 
there was much indignation among them when he 


The Tournament, 


35 


was banished. However, his crime was so flagrant 
that they could not excuse him.” 

At this juncture, some of the officers who had 
charge of preparing for the approaching tournament 
made their appearance, and Ludovico withdrew. 

On the following morning the city of Milan was 
all astir. From the ducal palace, and from the 
lowest hovel, came the note of preparation. There 
had been no grand exhibition of the kind for several 
years, and the people were anticipating a rare 
entertainment. It was known that knights were to 
be present from all the great cities, and the thing 
had been planned on a grand scale. At early dawn 
the peasants began to flock in ; and by the time the 
sun was two hours high the city was full. 

The ground where the tournament was to be held 
was in the eastern part of the town, close by the 
banks of the Saveso, and spacious enough to 
accommodate all who might wish to attend. The 
enclosure for the lists was a quadrangle, some two 
hundred yards long, by fifty in width, and upon one 
of the longest sides was a raised platform, or dais, 
spread with a carpet, and covered by a silken canopy, 
with seats for quite a number of persons. Only one 
of these seats was peculiar ; — it was a chair of velvet 
and gold, near the edge of the platform, with a 
crown of roses upon the centre post of the back. By 
nine o’clock the whole vast space about the enclosure 
was filled with eager spectators ; and, to occupy the 
time until the hour for the jousting, a few prizes 
were offered for the athletes. 

Th^ wrestlers were gazed upon with the most inter- 


36 


The Outcast of Milan, 


est, and the prize was borne off by a stout artizan 
named Michael Totilla. He was a handsome fellow, 
not more than five-and-twenty, and in his bearing a 
gentleman. He hurled strong men to the ground 
as though they had been children ; and when it 
came to a bout at fisticuffs he was soon without a 
competitor. 

“Ah,” said the visitor, as he walked away with the 
prize, “ I never knew but one man who could throw 
me.” 

“ Did you ever know one ?” asked a bystander. 

“Yes,” replied Michael. “ My young master was 
stronger than I. He could throw me as easily as 
I threw yonder louty butcher. Ah, my good, 
kind friend — I wish I knew where he was at this 
moment !” 

“When he was banished from Milan, why didn’t 
you follow him ?” 

“ O, I would have done so joyfully, but he would 
not permit it. He said I must stay and take the shop. 
You remember his property was all confiscated, 
and I managed to get possession of the old shop 
where his father had worked before him. No — he 
would not listen to my going with him. O, I wish 
he were a spurred and belted knight, and in these 
lists to-day ! There’s not a buckler in Lombardy 
could withstand his blows. But, alas ! he is not 
here — and he never will be again !” 

Hark ! The trumpets sound, and the great gate 
at the upper end of the enclosure is thrown open ; and 
while the guard keep back the crowd, the duke and 
his train ride in, and approach the dais ; and when 


The Tournament, 


37 


they had dismounted, their horses are led away. 
Rosabel of Bergamo occupies the golden chair, and 
over her shoulder is thrown a scarf of crimson silk 
richly wrought with silver, and bearing the device, 
within a wreath of silver laurel leaves — “ To the 
Conqueror.” The princess is very beautiful, and 
she acknowledges the adoration of the multitude by 
a graceful bow ; but it is plain to be seen that she 
is not happy. She has no heart in the grand 
pageant, and it is with an effort that she sustains 
herself under the gaze of so many eyes. 

“ Have the athletes contended for the prize ?” 
asked the duke of one of the heralds who stood near 
him. 

“ Yes, my lord.” 

‘•Who won at wrestling?” 

“ Michael Totilla.” 

“ And who bore off the palm at boxing ?” 

^‘The same, my lord.” 

“What — Michael Totilla again 

“Yes.” 

“ Do you mean the artizan who has taken Orlando 
Vendorme’s shop?” 

“ Yes, my lord.” 

“ I think he was a workman with Vendorme !’* 

“ He was, my lord. He learned his trade with the 
elder Vendorme.” 

“ By the mass !” muttered Manfred to himself, 
“this stout armorer may need looking after. His 
success may make him a hero ; and if he begins to 
prate of his outcast master, his words may have 
some weight with the people.” 


38 


The Outcast of Milan, 


The trumpets sound again ; and now a score of 
knights enter the enclosure and approach the dais ; 
and as they pass the canopied seats, they salute the 
duke, and make a low obeisance to the fair Princess 
of Bergamo. They are a noble train, and right 
bravely do they bear themselves in their saddles. 
The Prince Ludovico takes the lead. He is known 
by his crest. And Hugh de Castro comes next. 
He is known by the captain's baton, which he has 
retained in his hand. But who is that knight near 
the end of the train — he with the silver cross upon 
his breast-plate ? The duke is eager to find him 
out ; but no one can inform him. A herald is sent 
for, and Manfred asks who is the knight of the 
Silver Cross. 

“ I cannot tell you, my lord. I think he is from 
Modena; but further than that I know not.” 

“ Ha — as I live, here comes Alfonso of Modena 
himself. He shall give me knowledge of the strange 
knight.” 

The Count of Modena had entered with the 
knights, some of whom were from his city, and while 
they rode around the list he ascended the dais, 
where he was warmly welcomed by the duke, and 
presented to Rosabel. 

“ A noble company,” said the count, as the caval- 
cade rode around a second time. 

“ Aye, most truly,” replied Manfred. “ Some of 
them, I think, are from Modena ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Do you observe that royal-looking knight of the 
Silver Cross — the fourth from the rear?” 


The Tournament. 


39 


“ Yes.” 

“ I am told he is from your city.” 

“ He may be.” 

“ Do you know his name?” 

“ You forget yourself, my lord duke,” returned 
the count, with a smile. “ The knight wears his 
vizor down, which is a sign that he would remain 
incognito; so, even if I knew him, I should violate 
one of the most sacred rules of our order were I to 
reveal him; for I, too, am a knight of the Silver 
Cross.” 

Manfred bit his lip with vexation; but he dared 
not push the matter further, for he knew too well 
what the laws of chivalry were. 

Hark ! The heralds’ trumpets sound again, and 
ere long eight knights are separated from their com- 
panions, and remain in the centre of the Ibt. They 
divide into Iwo parties, of four each, and retire to 
opposite sides of the paling. In one party is the 
stranger knight of the silver cross; but the chief 
knights of the tournament are not in this joust. 
The word is given by the duke, and the heralds 
sound the blast of onset. The knights start, with 
there lances poised, and the shock of the encounter 
seems to shake the very ground. Five of the 
knights go down — three upon one side and two 
upon the other. He of the silver cross has one com- 
panion, and together they set upon the other three. 
Two more are unhorsed, and not a whole lance is 
left. The stranger knight is alone against two, and 
as he draws his battle-axe the others do the same. 
The blows fall thick and fast, and very soon he of 


40 


The Outcast of Milan, 


the glittering cross has but one opponent, and that 
is a stout knight of Milan. 

“ By the mass!” cries the duke, bringing his 
clenched fist down upon his knee, “ that fellow 
wields his axe right manfully. Saint Peter, what a 
blow was that! Ha! see — the stout Milanese is 
down! By my faith, I would know whose face is 
hid beneath that vizor.” 

The duke was not the only one who had eagerly 
watched the fray. In a far corner, close by the pal- 
ing, stood Michael Totilla, the stout armorer, and as 
he saw the battle progress he seemed moved by a 
strange emotion. 

“ By Saint Paul!” he cried, as the stranger knight 
wielded his axe, “ there is but one man living who 
knows those sweeps. If I am not dreaming, then 
my young master’s spirit inhabits that knightly 
armor.” 

“What is it you say?” asked a smith, who stood 
near. 

“ Nothing — nothing,” returned Michael. “ Ha! 
— Look! Down goes the iron knight! Now I know 
that lofty carriage. O, God grant I be not deceived ! 
And yet — how can it be ?” 

Michael Tortilla was in trouble; and with clasped 
hands and straining eyes he gazed eagerly after the 
proud victor. 

Shouts, loud and long, rent the air, as the knight 
of the silver cross sat alone in his saddle after his 
fallen companions and contestants had been helped 
from the field. He rode around the list twice, in an 


The Tournament, 


4 ^ 


easy, graceful manner, and then stopped near the 
dais. 

“ What does the knight demand?” asked Manfred. 

“ He challenges now to single combat any knight 
who dares oppose him.” 

“ Bid him send me his name.” 

“ He will not do it, my lord. He says if he is van- 
quished, his victor may remove his vizor, when some 
one present may recognize him. On the other hand, 
should he prove the victor, he must bare his head to 
receive the prize.’*' 

“ Audacious ! Does he think we will find brave 
knights to engage him upon such terms ! He must 
give his name.” 

“ My lord duke,” whispered Alfonso of Modena, 
“ you forget the laws. While a knight keeps his sad- 
dle, or stands upon his feet, his face is his own. He 
of the Silver Cross is right. Have you not some 
champion to engage him ?” 

« Yes — a score of them,” cried Manfred. 

At this point Ludovico approached his father and 
whispered to him aside : 

“ What shall be the arrangement with this fellow ?” 
he asked. 

“ First,” returned the duke,” “ do you know who 
he is ?” 

« No — I cannot learn. I only hear that he is from 
Modena.” 

“ But, my son, what think you of his prowess ? 
Can you overcome him ?” 

«Aye — that I can. The iron knight was too 
clumsy. Give yourself no uneasiness.” 


42 


The Outcast of Milan, 


“ Then I shall arrange it after my own pleasure. 
Hugh de Castro shall engage him first, and you shall 
immediately afterwards fight the victor. Thus you 
will come fresh to the field. Do you understand ?” 

Ludovico, with a lurking smile, said yes. 

Very soon afterwards the captain of the duke’s 
guard rode into the list, and picked up the gauntlet 
which had been thrown down by the knight of the 
Silver Cross. 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE VICTOR ! 

“ Look,” said the duke, speaking to one of his 
heralds, and pointing to where a strange party had 
taken position near the northeastern angle of the 
enclosure. There were four knights fully armed, a 
servant, and a fair-haired boy, and this was the first 
time the duke had seen them. “ Go and find out who 
those knights are. If they would enter the lists, 
they shall have opportunity, and if they would only 
look on to see others sport, they may have room 
upon the dais.” 

The herald went upon his mission, and when he 
returned, he reported : 

“ The knights thank you very graciously, my 
lord, but they will not leave their saddles, as they 
may not remain long. It is a party of Sir Frederic 


The Victor, 


43 


Von Brunt, of Saxony, on their way home from 
Rome.” 

“ And the boy is his son, I suppose ?” 

“ I think it very likely, my lord.” 

Alfonso of Modena had seen the party alluded to, 
and for a few moments he seemed deeply moved — 
so much so that he could not sit quietly in his seat. 
He had heard the conversation between the duke 
and the herald, and as soon as the latter had gone, 
he turned to Manfred, and remarked : 

“ I see Sir Frederic Von Brunt yonder. He is an 
old friend of mine. I think I will go and speak 
with him.” 

“ Ah, then you know the party, Sir Count?” 

I know Sir Frederic, and I think I recognize one 
other.” 

“ Who is the boy ?” 

“ Really — I — don’t know. Don’t you know him, 
my lord duke ?” 

How should I ? I never was in Saxony. I 
thought it might be Von Brunt’s son.” 

“Very likely. I believe he has a son. In fact, I 
know he has.” 

“ Are you going to speak with him ?” 

“ I had thought of it.” 

“ Then bear to him and his party my greeting, 
and tell them that the hospitality of my palace is 
theirs.” 

Alfonso hastened away, and when he reached the 
place where the Saxon knights rested in their sad- 
dles, he bowed to Von Brunt, and then made his 
way straight to the boy. 


44 


The Outcast of Milan. 


“Ah, my lord of Modena,” said the latter, speak- 
ing hastily, as though he would prevent the count’s 
salutation, “ did you think it worth your while to 
seek Theodore of Hartburg ?” 

“ My ” 

“ Hush ! Sir Frederic Von Brunt is leader of this 
party. If you have any obeisance to make, make it 
to him. But I am glad you have come. Not long 
since I sent a young man unto you for a favor — his 
name was Vendorme.” 

“ He came, my lord, and he is here to-day.” 

“ Ha — I thought so. That is he whose gauntlet 
Sir Hugh de Castro has just picked up.” 

“ Yes.” 

“ I was sure it could be no other. By our Lady, 
he is a valiant knight, and he honors the Silver 
Cross.” 

“ Aye, my lord ” 

“ A little more care, Alfonso. If I am lord of 
Hartburg, it need not be known here. Remember. 
See ! the knights are ready for the tilt. I will see 
you. Sir Count, after the sports are over.” 

When Sir Hugh de Castro came forth and picked 
up the gauntlet, another shout went up from the 
multitude but not such as went up on the former 
occasion. De Castro was known to be a powerful 
knight, but he was not loved by the people, and it 
was easy to see that the great sympathy on the 
present occasion was not with him. While the pre- 
liminaries were being arranged, the Count of 
Modena returned to the dais, and as he passed the 
golden chair, he thought that the Princess Rosabel 


The Victor. 


45 


looked very pale. He stopped, and rested his hand 
upon her arm. He had been a warm friend of her 
father’s, and he felt a deep interest in herself. 

“Sweet lady,” he said, in a low, earnest tone, 
“ you are not well.” 

She gazed up into his face with a startled look, 
but when she saw who it was, and beheld the kind- 
ness of his expression, she was calm again. 

“ I am very well,” she said, “ but this excitement 
may move me to weakness. You, my lord, are of 
Modena. I have heard that yonder brave knight is 
from the same city. Perhaps you know him ?” 

“ I do know him, lady, but I cannot break my 
vow. While he is in the list his secret is sacred. 
Did you fancy that you recognized him ?” 

“ No, my lord — that is — I know no knight at all 
like him in bearing.” 

“ Rest easy, sweet lady. If he wins the prize, you 
will be the first to see his face.” 

“Do you think he will win ?” 

“ I don’t know, but I think the chances are in his 
favor.” 

“ O — I hope he will !” 

The princess said this to herself, but Alfonso 
heard it, and as he moved to his seat he shook his 
head, muttering, in an undertone : 

“Ah — if I mistake not, love is prying beneath the 
casque of the brave knight!” 

Ha! See ! The two knights have turned at oppo- 
site sides of the list, and the trumpets sound a loud 
blast. Like arrows shot from the archer’s bow they 
leave the paling, and as they approach each other all 


46 The Outcast of Milan, 


breaths are hushed, and every heart holds from its 
beating. They meet with a terrific shock — both 
lances are shivered to atoms, and de Castro’s shield 
is bent, but both riders keep on, though the duke’s 
captain finds it hard work to regain his balance in 
his saddle. New lances are brought, and very soon 
the charge is sounded again. But Hugh de Castro 
is not steady in his seat. He has not recovered 
from the shock. His left arm is weak, and the shield 
trembles. He dashes on, however, but not to con- 
quest. When the meeting comes, he is thrown back- 
ward from his saddle, and lies helpless upon the 
ground. 

Does Hugh de Castro claim further trial 1 

No. He could not contend if he would. 

Another shout rent the air, and praises of the 
gallant victor were upon every lip. How grandly 
he bore himself, and how gracefully he swept 
around the enclosure after his second victory. As 
he approached the dais where sat the judge he cast 
down his gauntlet again, and in a moment more 
Ludovico rode in and picked it up upon the point of 
his lance. When the duke saw this he gave orders 
to the heralds to sound another onset. 

“ No, no,” cried a loud voice from a far corner. 
“ By the Saint of Milan, that is not fair. Give the 
brave knight rest!” 

“ It is not fair! It is not fair!” arose from every 
part of the vast concourse. 

“My lord duke,” said Alfonso of Modena, “ you 
will not surelv allow the brave champion to be 


The Victor. 


47 


worried down thus. Let some others take the list 
while he has time to breathe.” 

“ No,” cried Manfred, smiting his fist upon his 
knee. “ He has thrown down his challenge, and he 
must meet the result.” 

“ But,” urged the count, “ this is not knightly. 
He will meet the result, but he should not be forced 
beyond human endurance.” 

“ It shall be as I have said,” exclaimed the duke, 
impatiently. “ I am the judge, and the rule is mine. 
Let the trumpets sound!” 

Alfonso of Modena was not the only man of note 
who found fault with the course of the judge. 
Frederic Von Brunt swore a fearful oath when he 
saw it, and Theodore of Hartburg quivered with 
indignation. 

“ By my knighthood,” the boy uttered, this is 
most foul! Will it be allowed?” 

“ Yes,” replied Von Brunt. “ I saw Alfonso labor- 
ing with the duke, but it affected nothing. See — 
they are preparing for the joust. Now may our 
blessed Lady assist the brave champion!” 

“ Amen!” said Theodore fervently. 

The knight of the Silver Cross had taken a new 
lance, and he was advised to take a fresh horse, but 
he did not choose to do so. He had become used 
to the manner of his . steed, and he felt confidence in 
the animal’s power. He took his place at the end 
of the tilting-ground, and awaited the sound of the 
trumpets. 

Ludovico was mounted upon a powerful stallion 
well trained to the joust, and as he took his place 


48 The Outcast of Milan. 


he bore himself with proud assurance. He was a 
formidable leading opponent, and those who had 
seen him overcome Hugh de Castro looked to see 
the stranger knight bite the dust. It was not fair, 
they said, to call upon the gallant champion in such 
haste. It was a thing unusual. Manfred heard the 
murmurs arising from all hands and he determined 
to quiet the tumult as quickly as possible; but he 
did not mean to quiet it by doing a generous deed. 
No — he feared to give the stranger rest, lest his son 
should be overcome, so he gave orders for the her- 
alds to sound the charge, which was done as soon as 
the prince was ready. 

It was plain to be seen that the knight of the silver 
cross grasped the lance with more than his usual 
resolution, and that he was more careful in fixing 
his shield. And then, too, he braced himself in his 
saddle more firmly, with his feet fixed to best advan- 
tage in the stirrups. 

At the sound of the trumpets the combatants 
started forward, and when the shock came the spec- 
tators looked to see horses and riders rolled in the 
dust; but not so. Both riders reeled in their sad- 
dles, and the lance of the knight of Modena was 
broken. 

“ By Saint Paul," cried Michael Totilla, “ there is 
foul play in this. The prince had the stronger 
lance!" 

And so others believed; but there was little time 
for speech. He of the silver cross rode to the mar- 
shal’s stand and demanded a new lance. One was 
handed to him, and when he had balanced it a 


The Victor. 


49 


moment in his hand, he raised it above his head and 
snapped it in twain. 

“ Give me a weapon fit for work," he cried, as he 
cast the fragments at the marshal’s feet. 

Now by the bones of my fathers," exclaimed 
Theodore of Hartburg, whose station was near the 
marshal’s stand, “ if this brave knight be worsted by 
means so foul, there shall be a reckoning most 
severe. I can produce a knight that shall sweep 
yonder stout prince from his saddle as I would brush 
away a fly." 

“ Easy, my lord," whispered Von Brunt. “ The 
knight is not to be put off with a worthless weapon. 
See how he tries them." 

It was even so. The stranger tried three lances 
before he accepted one ; and when he was finally 
satisfied he returned to his place. The duke 
trembled with passion when he saw the worthless 
lances cast down, but he dared not say anything in 
opposition. He could only grind his teeth, and, 
when all was ready, spit out the order to the heralds 
with a show of vengeance. 

Again the combatants started, and this time the 
knight of the silver cross performed a feat which, 
had it failed, must have brought defeat to himself 
When within a few yards of his antagonist he gave 
his lance a sweep, bringing it down upon the edge 
of the opposing shield with such force as to break 
the guard, and on the next instant the prince was ' 
caught beneath the chin, and lifted clean from his 
saddle. 

As the knight of Modena went safely on to the 


50 


The Outcast of Milan. 


paling, without so much as quaking in his seat, leav- 
ing Ludovico rolling in the dust, a shout went up 
from the multitude that fairly rent the air. 

“ By my dukedom,” cried Manfred, smiting his 
fist upon his thigh, I never saw but one man who 
could make that stroke with the lance at full tilt, 
and he was not a knight.” 

“ Of whom do you speak ?” asked Alfonso of 
Modena. 

“ Of an old armorer named Roderic Vendorme,” 
replied the duke. But how is it with my son ?— 
Ha — he starts up himself. He is not hurt.” 

Ludovico managed to regain his feet, and as soon 
as he could collect his scattered senses he started 
for the marshal's stand. He would not mount his 
horse again, but demanded a trial with the sword. 

“Easy, fair sir,” said Frederic Von Brunt, who 
chanced to sit very near to where Ludovico had 
stopped ; “ I have seen yonder knight handle the 
sword, and if your arm is not wondrously strong, 
and your eye quick as light, you would do better to 
surrender where you are.” 

“ Peace !” cried the prince, taking his sword and 
pressing the point upon the ground. “ I yield not 
to an unknown braggart. 'Twas an accident un- 
horsed me. We shall see if my arm hath not some 
power.” And thus speaking he strode forward into 
the arena, and awaited the coming of his antagonist. 

The knight of Modena had no choice but to 
descend from his saddle and accept this offer. He 
could not force the prince to mount again, nor could 
he claim the victory while his opponent held arms 


The Victor, 


51 


against him ; so he gave his horse up to the groom, 
and drew his sword from its scabbard. 

“ Come on !” cried Ludovico, brandishing his 
weapon with furious sweeps. “ Now for the tug. 
Look to yourself !” 

The strange knight had wit enough not to waste 
his strength of lung in speech ; but, with his lips 
closed, and his buckler held easily over his left 
breast, he received the first blow of his antagonist, 
and turned it over his shoulder. Another blow, and 
another, — and yet he of the silver cross did not 
strike. He stood so calm and so confident, and 
turned off the blows with such apparent ease, that 
Ludovico became infuriate. 

“ Strike ! Strike !” the prince yelled. “ Are you 
fearful ?” 

Not a word from the lips of the stranger ; but pres- 
ently his sword performed a circle in the air, and 
came down upon the prince's buckler with a clang 
that made the people start. Again, as quick as 
thought, flashed the sword aloft, sweeping in strange 
courses, and descending like lightning upon the 
shoulder of the Milanese. Again and again fell the 
trenchant blade, with swift, unerring aim, and ere 
long Ludovico fell backward upon the ground, with 
his gorget hewn away, and in a moment more the 
victor’s sword was at his bare throat. 

“ Speak 1" said the knight of Modena. 

“ I yield !” came in a gasping tone from the lips 
of the prince. 

Loud and long were the shouts that went up from 
the multitude ; and Manfred was not more chagrined 


52 The Outcast of Milan, 


by his son’s defeat than he was by this clamorous 
evidence that the mass of the people were glad that 
the defeat had thus turned. But he was not quite 
yet prepared to deal justly. He saw that the prince 
had yielded up his sword, so there could be no 
excuse for allowing him again to contend. 

“ What ho !” he cried, starting forward to the 
edge of the dais, and raising his truncheon aloft, 
“ who now will contend with this unknown knight ?” 

“But, my lord,” spoke the marshal — “you will 
not have him called again to contend ?” 

“ He must meet all comers !” pronounced the 
duke. “ What ho. Sir Knight of the Silver Cross, — 
cast down thy gauntlet again.” 

The knight approached the ducal stand, and with 
a low bow, spoke as follows : 

“ My lord, I have done all that the laws of knight- 
hood require, and more. I have met the prince at a 
step beyond my line of duty. And now, sir, I am 
satisfied to abide by your decision. If I have not 
won the prize, I will retire from the list.” 

The duke cast his eyes about him, and he saw very 
plainly that it would not do to push his plan 
further ; so, with a power that he could exercise 
when occasion called, he put on a smile, and spoke 
as graciously as though he were pleased with what 
he said : 

“ Sir Knight of the Silver Cross, since no one 
appears to challenge thee, I must award to thee the 
prize due to thy valor. Kneel at the feet of the 
princess, and let the herald make proclamation that 


The Old Home, 


53 


the victor is to be clothed with the j conqueror’s 
scarf.” 

The trumpets were sounded, and the proclama- 
tion was made ; and while another shout of satis- 
faction went up from the multitude, the stranger 
knight knelt, and loosened the straps of his helmet. 

Rosabel of Bergamo arose and stepped forward, 
with the scarf in her hands. She was deathly pale, 
and it was with difficulty that she maintained her- 
self. As the helmet fell from the victor’s head, she 
let the scarf fall over his neck, but she could not 
make the speech which had been set for her. She 
saw the face of the conquering hero — she caught the 
light of the dark eye as it beamed hopefully upon 
her — and then she sank back into her chair, and 
buried her face in her hands ; and she would surely 
have fallen from her seat had not her attendants 
supported her. 

‘‘Whom have we here cried the duke, springing 
forward. “ It is Orlando Vendorme ! It is the 
Outcast !” 


CHAPTER V. 

THE OLD HOME. 

Like a stream of light flashed the intelligence 
through the crowd that the gallant victor was 
Orlando Vendorme. For a few moments the word 
was carried with a murmuring sound, and people 


54 


The Outcast of Milan, 


knew not what to do, or what to think ; but by and 
by, when the thing was certain — when the con- 
queror arose, and the handsome features of the out- 
cast were plainly seen — then another shout rent the 
air. But one man, who had lent his lungs to swell 
the shout on the previous occasions, was silent now. 
Michael Totilla recognized his young master, and 
while others shouted, he bowed his head in thought. 
He had suspected this before, but he had not real- 
ized its full force until the truth was thus demon- 
strated to his vision. 

“ I don’t know how it is,” he muttered to himself, 
taking one more look at the victor, as though ^he 
would assure himself that there could be no mis- 
take, “ but thus it is. That is Orlando ; and he has 
won the prize. If he has made his way in here 
without being a true knight, his head is in danger ; 
and if, by some wonderful chance, he hath honor- 
ably won the knightly spurs, his head is in danger all 
the same. I must keep my ears and eyes open 
now.” 

And thus speaking, the stout artizan worked his 
way nearer to the dais. 

As soon as the duke could recover himself, and 
had seen Rosabel assisted from the scene, he started 
back a pace, and called for his marshal. 

“ What ho ! Bring hither your officers ! This is 
a foul imposter ! The wretch has made his way 
hither in disguise, and his punishment hath been 
spoken. Make haste!” 

At this point the Count of Modena stepped down 
from his seat, and Frederic Von Brunt and Ludwig 


The Old Horne, 


55 


Eberhard moved near to the stand. Meanwhile, 
Vendorme had risen to his feet, and had put on his 
helmet, with the vizor thrown up. 

“ My lord,” spoke Alfonso, “ he is a true knight. 
He is no imposter.” 

“ How now ?” demanded Manfred, hotly. “ How 
can that be ? Who vouches for his knighthood V* 

“ I do,” replied the count. 

“ Then you have been deceived, and the villain 
hath imposed upon you ; so he is an imposter, as I 
said. Where are the officers ? Bring an axe and 
strike off his spurs !” 

By this time a score of knights had gathered 
around the spot, and when they heard that the 
Count of Modena vouched for the knighthood of 
the accused, their sympathies all went with him. 
He had overcome Hugh de Castro and Prince 
Ludovico, whom they disliked ; and now, if he was 
honest, they meant to stand by him. The prince, 
though lame and sore, had made his way to the 
dais, and was clamorous in his demand for instant 
vengeance upon the youthful adventurer. 

“ His sentence is death,” Ludovico exclaimed. 
“ The sentence was passed upon him when he was 
banished. It was then decreed, should he ever 
again be found within the limits of the city, that 
his head should be the forfeit.” 

“Aye,” responded Manfred. “My soni speaks 
truly ; and so it shall be. Hugh de Castro, bring 
hither some of your guard, and take the culprit 
hence.” 

Vendorme did not move nor speak, for he saw 


56 


The Outcast of Milan, 


that Alfonso of Modena had taken up his cause ; 
and he furthermore saw that the knights of Saxony 
regarded him with friendly looks. 

“ My lord,” said Alfonso, “ I must speak again ; 
and I give you my knightly word that Orlando 
Vendorme hath won his spurs right honorably ; 
and that he wears the silver cross most right- 
eously.” 

“ How do you know ?” demanded the duke. 

“ Because,” replied Alfonso, “ I myself conferred 
the order upon him.” 

“ But you had no right.” 

‘‘You are mistaken. Here is my right honorable 
chamberlain, Marco ,Torquedo, who assisted me in 
the ceremony of initiation ; and there were others of 
our grand order present.” 

“ How — how could you do it ?” cried Manfred. 
“What reason had you? By what right could you 
elevate an outcast to our order of the silver cross ?” 

“ By the best of all rights,” answered Alfonso, 
drawing himself proudly up. “ I am the Grand 
Master of the order, and the candidate was sent to 
me with credentials which were satisfactory ; and 
now, sir, I vouch for his standing as a true knight.” 

“ But,” said Manfred, choking with rage, “ he is 
still under the penalty. He was banished from 
Milan, and his return has subjected him to death.” 

“ Ah, my lord duke, you forget yourself. There 
are laws which you and I dare not break. A true 
knight of the Cross hath passage to any city in 
Christendom, and the gates cannot be closed against 
him. You cast out a poor armorer — he returns with 


The Old Home. 


57 


the passport of the silver cross — and he claims pas- 
sage by a right which you cannot deny.” 

“ I do deny it !” exclaimed the duke, now fairly 
beside himself with passion. “ He shall not escape 
me thus ! He is a criminal, and as such, within my 
own dominions, I claim him for punishment. Away 
with him ! I will hear no more !” 

“ 'Fore God !” cried Frederic Von Brunt, pushing 
his way nearer to the dais, “ this shall not be. I 
espouse the cause of the gallant victor. For what 
he hath this day done let him harm him who dare !” 

And as he thus spoke he drew off his iron gauntlet 
and cast it upon the ground. 

“Aye ! aye !” echoed many other knights ; and in 
a moment more a score of gauntlets were lying at the 
duke’s feet. 

“ S’death J” gasped Ludovico, who stood leaning 
upon the arm of an attendant ; “ are we to be 
insulted thus ?” 

“ It is right, sir ; and the duke rs wrong,” pro- 
nounced a quiet voice. 

The prince turned to see who had spoken, and 
encountered the gaze of Theodore of Hartburg. 

“ How now, insolent boy !” cried Ludovico, firing 
with passion. “ Put in thy tongue again with its 
meddling, and I’ll smite thee where thou sittest !” ^ 

“ Be not too sure, sir prince.” ^ 

“ By the gods, I know what I say ; and thou had’st 
best beware, or thy countship will not save thee. 
They tell me thou art a count, and if it so be, I 
would advise thee to attend to thine, own business.” 

The boy count quivered from head to foot, and 


58 


The Outcast of Milan, 


once his hand dropped upon his sword-hilt ; but he 
quickly recovered himself, and, with a smile creep- 
ing over his handsome features, turned away. 

Meanwhile the duke had had time for reflection. 
When he saw the stout knights espousing the cause 
of the outcast, he knew that they were in earnest ; 
and he furthermore knew that he had no ground for 
opposition. The laws of knighthood had been truly 
laid down by the Lord of Modena, and he knew that 
he was bound to their obeyance by a sacred oath. 

“Gentlemen," he said, swallowing his passion, and 
assuming a yielding expression, “ the heat of my dis- 
appointment has somewhat ruffled me ; but I am not 
blind to our solemn obligations. Place yourselves in 
my position, and you may judge something of the 
feelings I must have experienced when I first knew 
that he who had overcome my son was an outcast 
from my city. But it is past. Forgive me if I have 
been intemperate. Sir knight," he added, extending 
his hand to Vendorme, “ I greet thee as the true vic- 
tor of the day. Wear thy prize, and see to it that 
you walk worthy of the high honor that has been 
conferred upon you. As a knight of the silver cross 
I bid thee welcome to our city. Now let the trum- 
pets sound, and then we’ll away to the banquet ; and 
after that the minor sports shall succeed." 

There was a blast from the heralds, and another 
shout ; and soon afterwards the cavalcade of 
knights, led by Hugh de Castro, started for the 
ducal palace. The great banqueting hall was 
thrown open, and Manfred took his place at the 
head of the table, upon an elevated dais, and by his 


The Old Home. 


59 


side sat Orlando Vendorme. The youth would not 
have been there if he could have avoided it ; but, as 
victor of the day, by the laws of chivalry, he was 
obliged to sit at the commemorative feast. There 
were knights and gentlemen present from all sec- 
tions of Lombardy ; but there were no ladies. The 
princess, who should have occupied the seat upon 
the right of the duke, was absent from indisposition, 
so that place was given to the Count of Modena. 

But where were the knights of Saxony ? The 
duke looked for them in vain. 

“ They could not remain,” said Alfonso. They 
are on their way to the north, and have but little 
time on their hands.” 

“ Never mind,” returned the duke. “ I shall not 
miss them. To tell the truth, I do not fancy these 
Saxons. They are churlish fellows,- and meddle- 
some.” 

Alfonso made no reply to this. 

The feast commenced, and, as might be expected, 
Orlando Vendorme was the chief object of remark. 
To him many praises were given, and in his honor 
the minstrel sang. But the youth was not at ease. 
He had been carried through the scenes of the list 
without much trial to his nerves, but at the duke’s 
table he did not feel at home. He knew that he had 
many friends present ; and he also knew that he had 
some enemies. Manfred addressed him with smooth 
speech, but beneath this complaisant exterior there 
was lurking a fire of most deadly hatred. Orlando 
could see it and feel it ; and he knew, too, that he 
was the object of other deadly hatred beside, After 


6o 


The Outcast of Milan, 


candles had been brought in, and the wassail ran 
high, he made an excuse to leave the table, and 
when he had gained the court he took his way 
towards the dwelling he had formerly occupied. He 
fancied that some one left the palace directly behind 
him ; but there were so many people moving in the 
streets that he could not tell whether he was followed 
or not. When he reached the house he sought, he 
stopped and knocked upon the door. The summons 
was answered by Michael Totilla. 

“ God and the holy saints be praised !” cried the 
honest artizan, stretching forth his hands. “ O, my 
dear master, this is worth a year of life. Come — all 
is safe within. I am alone, with only my little Cin- 
thia. You remember her. Come." 

Orlando followed Michael into the house — into 
the room where he had spent his childhood — where 
he met a smiling, happy face. It was a youthful 
face, and upon a spry little body. Our hero knew 
that face very well, for it belonged to the daughter 
of one of his father’s old workmen. 

“This is my Cinthia — my wife — my companion," 
said the armorer with pride. 

“I remember her," returned Orlando, taking her 
fair hand and raising it-to his lips; “and I give her 
this salute in token of a brother’s love." 

“A brother in love," cried Michael; “but a father 
in deeds of care and counsel. Ah, my master, many 
is the time that Cinthia has told me that she loved 
you next to me. You didn’t expect to find us 
married." 

“Ah, my good Michael, I hardly expected to find 


The Old Home, 


6i 


you at all; but now that I have found you, I must 
say that the finding of you married gives me 
additional joy. You must have been surprised 
when you saw the face that bowed before the prin- 
cess Rosabel this afternoon.” 

“Not much, Orlando; for I had discovered you 
before. Those blows of your axe revealed. your arm. 
Still I was not sure until I saw your face. It is 
wonderful. I cannot account for it. I can hardly 
realize it. Cinthia and I have been talking about it.” 

“And now, I suppose,” said our hero, with a smile, 
“you would like to have me talk about it.” 

“Certainly,” replied Michael, frankly. 

Cinthia expressed her desire to hear the wonderful 
story by quickly bringing a stool and taking a seat 
close by her husband. 

Orlando had nothing to conceal from these true 
friends, so he commenced at the beginning, and gave 
a full account of all his adventures, from the date of 
his banishment up to the present time. He told how 
he had suffered — how he had gone hungry — and how 
he had even begged for bread; and then he told of 
meeting with the Saxon knights, of his adventure 
with the robbers, and of the reward which he had 
received from the youthful Count of Hartburg. 

“The moment I found myself a knight,” he con- 
tiued, “or, I should say, when I was able to realize 
that I was a knight, I resolved to be present at this 
tournament. I had learned that my knighthood 
rendered null the edict of the duke against me, and 
I meant to make my mark if I could. How it has 
all turned out you have seen,” 


62 


The Outcast of Milan, 


“It is wonderful!” exclaimed Cinthia, gazing up 
into Orlando’s face with an expression curiously- 
struggling between love and awe. 

“Aye, most wonderful,” echoed Michael. “But, 
my master, there is something curious about this 
young Theodore of Hartburg. He has been here 
since the joust was over ; he was here just at sunset 
— he and a knight named Von Brunt — and he left 
the measure for a shirt of mail, which he said you 
would make for him.” 

“Yes,” returned Orlando. “I promised to make 
him one ; and he paid me in advance. I wish I 
could have seen him. Did he say when he should 
want it ?” 

“ He asked me if I supposed you could have it 
done within a month ; and I told him that, with my 
assistance, I thought you could. Then he said that 
at the expiration of that time he might be here 
again.” 

“ There is something in that boy’s character, 
Michael, which I cannot fathom ; but he has been a 
friend to me, and I shall go at work at once upon 
the shirt of mail, that is, if I can have room in your 
shop.” 

“ Hush, my master. The shop is yours.” 

“ Not so, Michael. If you have paid your money 
for it, it is yours.” 

“ And where did I get my money ? Where did I 
learn my trade? How did I become a cunning 
workman at our craft ?” 

“ Never mind, my dear friend and brother,” said 
Orlando, deeply moved by this proof of Michael’s 


The Old Home, 


63 


goodness ; “ for the present we will call the shop 
ours. And now, will you help me make the armor ?” 

“ But — do you mean to go at work — to work at the 
forge ?” 

“ Certainly. Why not ?" 

“ You are a knight.” 

“ That does not make labor dishonorable to me.” 

“ No,” said Michael ; and after a little hesitation, 
he added : “ But there is another reason. There is 
danger in the way.” 

“ Ha— where ?” 

Do you imagine that the duke will let you rest 
in peace ?” 

“ Ah, my brother, you suspect him, do you ?” 

“ Don’t you, my master T' 

“ Well, Michael, to tell you the truth, I do suspect 
that he hates me, and that he would not fail to crush 
me if I gave him opportunity ; and I am not sure 
that I should stop here in Milan at present, were it 
not that I have promised this work. Not for my 
life would I fail to keep my word with Theodore of 
Hartburg ; and you know that the armor he seeks 
cannot be made at any other forge. I do not 
believe that I could temper the fine steel in any 
other place. What think you ?” 

“ I fear it is even so.” 

“You know it is so.” 

“ At any rate, my master, I cannot dispute you.” 

“ Then I must remain beneath this roof for the 
month to come, and we will work together. At the 
end of that time the boy-count may come for his 
armor ; and then, perhaps, we shall learn something 


64 


The Outcast of Milan. 


more concerning him. I think our little Cinthia 
will cook for me, and find me in clean linen.” 

And more than that, sir,” replied the true-hearted 
woman. “ I will not only cook and wash for you, 
but I will watch for you. I will keep my eyes open 
for enemies.” 

“ Aye,” added Michael, with a shake of the head, 
“ there may be need of it. We’ll have to watch, 
and we’ll have to be careful. Of course, Orlando, 
you will not think of seeking further interview 
with — ” 

“With whom, Michael ?” 

“Never mind. It was a foolish thought. I know 
you will not run your own neck beneath the axe.” 

Orlando Vendorme knew very well what his com- 
panion would have said ; and in the season of 
silence that followed he bowed his head, and thought 
of the pale, yet beautiful face that beamed upon him 
when he received the conqueror’s scarf. 


CHAPTER VI. 

PLOTTING. 

During three days sports of various kinds were 
kept up in the enclosure which had been prepared 
for the tournament ; and as a closing scene the duke 
gave a grand feast of meat and wine to the popu- 
lace. Of course there were loud cheers for Man- 


Plotting. 


65 


free! of Milan, and many an oath was taken in his 
name. 

It was past midnight of the last day of the 
carnival, and the sounds of revelry were nearly 
hushed. Manfred had not yet retired. He had 
just come in from the streets, where he had been 
walking in disguise. The prince Ludovico was 
with him. The prince had not been in the street, 
however ; for he had not yet recovered from the 
shock of his joust, and his leg was lame, and his 
back stiff. 

“ I think,” said Ludovico, taking a seat by the 
table where wine was placed, “ that you have won 
somewhat upon the people by this festival.” 

“ What makes you think so ?” asked the duke, 
stopping, and sitting at the opposite side of the 
table. 

“ What reason have I for thinking otherwise ?” 
returned Ludovico, regarding his father with a look 
of surprise. “ Have I not heard the people, even 
from here, where I have passed the evening, shout- 
ing praises to Manfred of Milan ? Has not the 
whole city rung with your name ?” 

“ Aye,” replied the duke, with a bitter curl of the 
heavy lips, “ my name has been upon the air ; and 
men have praised me, and sworn by me ; but what 
of it ? Who are they that shout ? I have been 
among them so thoroughly disguised that I seemed 
a stranger in Milan, and I have heard and seen ; 
and I have learned how much such demonstrations 
are worth. The drunken rabble have used my 
name most freely, but the sober, thinking citizens I 


66 


The Outcast of Milan, 


have not seen in the revel. No, if this saturnalia 
hath pointed any influence, it will be against me. 
My choicest plans have been thwarted.” 

“ How thwarted ?” asked the prince. 

How thwarted ? Don’t you know ? Who was 
it that won the prize at the tournament ? Who 
overcame my stout captain } Who overcame my 
son ?” 

Ludovico started with the memory of his defeat, 
and a bitter curse escaped his lips. 

“ I know, I know,” he said ; “ but there may be 
retribution in that quarter. Do you know what the 
outcast Vendorme has done with himself ?” 

“ Aye — there’s the rub ! I have heard to-night 
that he has gone at work in his old shop.” 

“What ! — Not at his old calling?” 

“ Yes. He is at work at his forge ; and that 
rascal of a Michael Totilla is helping him.” 

“ Then where is his knighthood ? I do not believe 
he was ever truly knighted.” 

“ I don’t know,” said the duke, with a dubious 
shake of the head. “ There’s something in connec- 
tion with that affair which I cannot fathom. He 
must have been knighted, for Alfonso of Modena 
conferred the order himself, and there is the mys- 
tery. Why should the count have done it ? But 
that is not all. Who are these knights of Saxony 
that made themselves so conspicuous at the tourna- 
ment? They have had something to do with this.” 

“ Never mind,” cried the prince, with an oath. 
“ Let them go as they came. What care we for the 
burly braggarts of the North ? If Orlando Ven- 


Plotting, 


67 


dorme hath set himself down again in our city, we 
must take care of him. Did you not see how the 
sight of his face affected our fair princess ?” 

“ Aye — I marked it well.” 

“And do you not believe that even now she would 
flee to this outcast if she had the opportunity ?” 

“ Yes — I am sure she would.” 

“ Then how long shall we suffer him to remain in 
our city ?” 

The duke looked into his son’s face, and a half- 
waking smile flitted across his dark countenance. 

“ Why do you ask me that question, Ludovico ?” 

“ Because I would know if we are to be ridden 
upon by a dog !” 

“ Wait — wait, my son. Do you get over your 
lameness, and get ready for your marriage with 
Rosabel, and if Orlando Vendormeis here to trouble 
you after that, you may set it down that the Duke of 
Milan has been again thwarted. Do you under- 
stand me ?” 

“ I think I do,” replied the prince, watching the 
shadows of evil as they played over his father’s 
face. 

“ Then get thee to bed, and nurse thyself care- 
fully, so that Rosabel of Bergamo may have a hus- 
band as soon as may be, for the sooner you secure 
her the better may it be.” 

Ludovico arose from his chair, and moved towards 
the door, but before he reached it, he turned and 
gazed again upon his parent. 

“My father,” he said, in a low, earnest tone, “I 
wish to ask you a question, and your answer may be 


68 


The Outcast of Milan. 


as you please. I do not speak from curiosity, but 
from a desire to fortify myself and to help you at 
the same time. We have spoken of Orlando Ven- 
dorme. Do you fear him 

“ No !” cried the duke, stamping his foot upon 
the floor. 

“Do not misunderstand me. I mean — would you 
fear him if you could not sweep him from your 
path ?” 

“Why do you ask that question T 

“ Because I have reason for it. I have seen some 
things, and they have led me to think ; and they 
have led me to ask myself questions which I cannot 
answer. Why has Alfonso of Modena taken such a 
strange interest in the outcast ? What does it mean ? 
And who is that boyish count that calls himself Lord 
of Hartburg? Why was he here with his train of 
knights t Why did he, too, take such an interest in 
Vendorme ? These are the things that puzzle me.” 

“And they puzzle me as well, my son. But they 
do not frighten me. I will solve the problem as 
Alexander severed the Gordian knot. Now go to 
your bed, and obey the instructions of your 
physicians.” 

Ludovico left the apartment without asking any 
more questions, and in a little while after he was 
gone Sir Hugh de Castro entered. 

“ Good, my captain,” cried the duke. “ I have 
been waiting for you. Have you left everything 
quiet?” 

“ As quiet as I can desire, my lord,” replied de 


Plotting. 


69 


Castro. “The streets are in order, and the wine- 
shops are closed.” 

“ Good. Be seated, sir, and listen to me.” 

Hugh de Castro had been Manfred’s companion 
almost from boyhood, and he was just the man for 
a tyrant’s tool, bold, daring and unscrupulous, with 
just ambition enough to fill the place he held, he 
was willing to do anything to please the man who 
kept him in a station of authority and power. Had 
he been more intelligent, he might have proved a 
dangerous friend for his master, but he knew his 
own weak points, so he did not aspire to rule. 

“ My captain,” said the duke, after the knight had 
drank a cup of wine, “ what think you of the 
youngster that overcame you at the tournament.^” 

De Castro bit his lip and clenched his fist. 

“ He is a stout rascal, my lord.” 

“ Aye — I know that, but I would discover what 
your opinion is touching another matter. Have you 
seen him since you left the list?” 

“ I caught a glimpse of him through the shop win- 
dow this evening, my lord, as he was at work at the 
bench.” 

“ Ah — that’s it, my captain. How like you the 
idea of the champion of our city working at the 
forge ?” 

“ It is humiliating.” 

“ Of course it is.” 

“ But I can’t see why he does it,” said de Castro. 
“ There is something mysterious about the whole 
affair.” 

“ Would it hurt you, my dear Hugh, to know that 


70 


The Outcast of Milan, 


this upstart champion was — once more banished 
from Milan ?” 

“ No — indeed it would not. But, my lord, how 
can you do it t Has he done anything — ” 

“ Pshaw ! you don’t understand me. I mean — 
how would you like to see him banished from this 
earth ?” 

“ Ah — now I comprehend. Oho — I see it now. 
And, my lord duke, you touch me in the right place.” 

Good, my captain. I have thought of this thing 
and I have concluded that it must be done, and, 
furthermore, I have wondered who would help me 
in the work.” 

“ Hold, my lord. You need wonder no more. 
Here is my hand. Let me but have your ducal 
order, and the thing is done.” 

“ Don’t misunderstand me, de Castro. I mean not 
to issue my edict. The work, if done at all, must 
be done so secretly that the story shall never be 
told. There must be no arrest — no noise. He must 
be slipped'off as quietly as possible.” 

Hugh de Castro poured out a cup of wine, and 
when he had drank it, he said, as he put the cup 
down by way of emphasis : 

“ I understand you, and it shall be done ; and in 
one week from this time those who seek for Orlando 
Vendorme shall seek in vain !” 

And now,” cried Manfred, rising from his seat, 
“ I can seek my couch in some manner of comfort. 
A fitting reward awaits thee, my captain, when the 
deed is done.” 


Plotting, 


71 


Orlando Vendorme went at work in the old shop 
on the very next day after the tournament. He had 
promised the young lord of Hartburg that the 
armor should be made ; and, under all the circum- 
stances of the case, he could not hesitate. He felt 
that he was running some risk, but he would not 
allow the fear of his enemies to deter him from ful- 
filling his obligation. He went at his work in the 
forenoon, and before night he had succeeded in 
forming a pattern of chain to suit him. He pro- 
duced some fine wire so subtile that it yielded 
almost like threads of gold when bent or twisted, 
and yet of a temper so keen that a sword could not 
cut it. Thus successful in the outset, he flattered 
himself that he should produce for Theodore of 
Hartburg a suit of mail utterly impenetrable to 
mortal weapon. 

“ It is the finest steel I ever saw," said Michael, 
after he had put the wire to the test. “That is 
something which I could never do." 

“ But you shall do it, Michael, before this armor 
is finished ; so that, when I again leave you to your- 
self, you can furnish mail equal to any ever made 
by Roderic Vendorme or his son. How will that 
please you ?" 

“ So well," replied Michael clapping his hands 
with joy, “ that I shall be the happiest man alive. 
When I can make a network like that which you 
now possess, I shall be able to do that which no 
other armorer in Milan, save yourself, can accom- 
plish." 


72 The Outcast of Milan, 


“ That is even so,” returned Orlando. “ And you 
shall have the first secret this very night.” 

Michael Totillabent himself with careful attention 
to the instruction of his young master, and before 
the expiration of another day he was able to com- 
pound the ingredients necessary to the tempering of 
the steel, and practice would soon perfect him in the 
work. 

Orlando had been at work nearly a week at his 
forge without having once left the house. He had 
worked thus steady for two reasons. First' he 
wished to get the suit of mail done as soon as 
possible ; and, second, he had no desire to be gazed 
upon by a curious multitude, and troubled with 
impudent questions, from which latter cause he 
had kept the house. But finally, when the steel 
was all fashioned, and ready for weaving into the 
intricate network, our hero concluded to take a 
stroll through the city. It was in the evening, and 
Michael had gone out to do some purchasing for the 
larder. 

“ Are you going out ?” asked Cinthia, as she saw 
Orlando buckling on his sword. 

“ Yes, my sister. I think I have been shut up here 
about long enough ; and it is time that I had some 
fresh air. You won’t be lonely, will you ?” 

“ O, no, — it isn’t that, sir. I was thinking that 
you might wait until Michael came back ; and then 
he could bear you company.” 

“Ah,” returned Vendorme, with a smile, “you 
don’t understand my turn of mind. I want to study 
and reflect ; and so I prefer to walk alone.” 


Plotting, 


73 


“ But, sir,” pursued Cinthia, with evident concern, 
“ you don't understand any better than I do. There 
may be danger if you venture out alone.” 

“ Danger !” cred Orlando. Danger in the streets 
of Milan ! Pooh ! impossible.” 

“Ah, my brother, you do not reflect. You have 
enemies in Milan ; and they are high in power, too. 
And I think I have seen strange men lurking about 
our house of late. I know I saw one last night.” 

“ Never mind, Cinthia. I thank you for your 
kindness of thought ; but I cannot hive myself up 
here like a frightened criminal. You see I have my 
good sword for a companion, and while that is by 
me I shall not fear any lurking enemies. If Michael 
comes Back before I do, you may tell him that I 
have gone to walk by the Saveso. Keep up a good 
heart, sweet sister, and don’t let the ghosts and gob- 
lins come in to disturb you.” 

Cinthia tried to smile, but the effort was fruitless; 
yet she spoke cheerfully and urged Orlando to keep 
his eyes open for danger. 

As our hero left the house he cast his eyes care- 
fully about him, but saw nothing to attract particu- 
lar attention. There were several persons in the 
street, but they seemed bent upon business of their 
own. The night was clear and calm, and the stars 
were out in all their glory. There had been a north- 
erly breeze during the latter part of the day, so that 
some of the coolness of the far off Alps was mingled 
with the atmosphere. Slowly and thoughtfully the 
youth pursued his way, and when he reached the 
neighborhood of the eastern river he turned to the 


74 The Outcast of Milan. 


left, and walked towards the old tilting-ground. As 
he was walking thus, with his head bowed, he heard 
footsteps behind him, and on turning he saw a man 
approaching. He had no desire to meet any one 
who might recognize him, so he turned away from 
the direct path, and walked more slowly. The man 
behind came up and passed on, turning when close 
by our hero and regarding him with evident inter- 
est ; but he did not stop; he only slackened his pace 
a little, and then moved on, and was soon out of 
sight beyond a clump of oleanders. 

With no further thought of the passer, Vendorme 
pursued his way until he finally reached the scene of 
the tournament. The gates of the list were open, 
and he entered, and moved towards the platform 
where the duke had sat. When he reached the 
spot where he had knelt to receive the conqueror’s 
scarf, he stopped, and bowed his head upon his 
bosom. 

“Alas !” he murmured, “and thus the strife must 
end ! O, Rosabel, thou hast crossed my path like a 
brightly flashing star, blinding me for the while to 
all else of earth ; but thou canst no more bless me — 
no more beam upon me. Into my solitude of life I 
will carry the remembrance of thy sweet face ; and 
my soul shall be cheered by the belief that thou 
did’st feel for me some tender emotion. In a few 
short weeks my native city will know me no more. 
And so, sweet Rosabel, farewell !” 

A little while after thus speaking the youth stood 
with his arms folded upon his breast, and then he 
I turned from the spot. He had come near to the 


Plotting. 


75 


gate, and was about to pass through, when a man, 
coming from without, ran full against him. 

“ How now, dog !" cried the stranger, starting 
back a pace. He was a huge, powerful fellow, top- 
ping our hero by almost a full head, and swelling 
out about the shoulders to the proportions of a 
giant. 

Orlando could not be mistaken in the person. It 
was a noted bravo named Matteo — a fellow stained 
with ^ thousand crimes, but who had for the past 
few years served Hugh de Castro in the capacity of 
guardsman. 

How is this, villain ?” the fellow continued, with 
a fierce oath. “ Why do I find you lurking about 
this out-of-of-the-way place ? Get thee hence, or I’ll 
spit thee upon my sword, and serve thy body up to 
the fishes of the Saveso !" 

Without stopping to consider, Orlando resented 
this right promptly. 

“ If you have business to intercept peaceful 
citizens, then know that I am exempt from your 
oversight ; but if you seek a quarrel, you had better 
consider upon it before you begin.’* 

“ Ho, ho, my boy, you will oppose an officer of the 
guard, will you ! Take that for your trouble.” 
And as the bravo thus spoke, he struck the youth in 
the face. 

Quick as thought Orlando sprang back, and drew 
his sword. 

‘‘ Villain !” he shouted, if you push me further, 
you shall rue it !” 

“ Ho, ho, — you draw you sword upon the guard. 


76 


The Outcast of Milan, 


do you ! Now, you shall find how fine a thing it is ! 
Mind — you have attacked me — you drew your sword 
first — you invite the conflict !” 

In a moment it flashed upon our hero that this 
fellow had been set on to work by his superiors, and 
that a deadly conflict had been meant from the first. 
He now saw through the warning of Cinthia ; and 
he understood the business of the stranger who had 
passed him on the road. This was a plot of his 
enemies, and its meaning was, that he should die. 

“ I attack no man,’* he said ; but I shall defend 
myself to the utmost. I know you ; and I know 
your business.” 

Orlando had prepared himself for the battle, and 
was all ready to meet his huge opponent, when he 
was startled by beholding two or three armed men 
emerge from the shadow of the paling ; and as neaf^ 
as he could judge from the glimmering of thek 
armor, they were companions of the bravo. 


CHAPTER VII. 

NEED OF MORE PLOTTING. 

“ What is this ?” cried Orlando Vendorme, start- 
ing back, and gazing sharply out upon the strangers 
who had arisen from behind the paling. 

“ They are nothing to me,” returned Matteo. 
“ Look out for yourself.” 


Need of More Plotting, 


77 


Our hero had but a moment for thought, but dur- 
ing that moment his thoughts comprehended 
considerable — comprehended enough to convince 
him that the men behind the fence were companions 
of the villain before him. Matteo had not turned 
his head ; he had not looked behind him ; and yet 
he showed by his speech that he knew just what the 
youth had seen. How could he have known this if 
he had not known who were at hand } 

But the question was no sooner answered in his 
own mind than he was called upon to defend him- 
self ; for while he yet gazed to see if the strangers 
were inclined to advance, the bravo attacked him. 

“ Insolent cur !” the guardsman shouted, raising 
his sword, and preparing for the blow, “ you have 
sealed your own doom. This is the fate of those 
who interfere with officers on duty !’* 

Matteo was probably astonished when he found 
that his sword spent its force upon empty air ; but 
he was not long in recovering himself, and his next 
blow was given with more care and precision. He 
did not hit his mark, however ; and a fierce oath 
escaped him. Our hero very quickly discovered 
that his antagonist was a mere lout at handling the 
sword ; though his immense physical power gave 
him fatal advantages over ordinary swordsmen. 

Forbear !" cried Orlando, after the third pas- 
sage. “ I want no more of it.’* 

Ha, ha — you don’t, eh ! But I do. I must have 
your life — Ha ! Take care — here it is !” 

And so it was ; but not as Matteo had meant. 
He fancied that he was about to cleave off the head 


78 


The Outcast of Milan. 


of his opponent ; but instead thereof the point of 
the youth’s sword entered his body directly below 
the arm, passing through his heart ; and, in a very 
few moments more, his gigantic body tumbled over 
upon the ground ; but not, however, until he had 
cried out in sharp, agonizing tones that he was 
killed. 

Before Vendorme could fairly recover himself 
from this shock, the men whom he had seen behind 
the paling, three in number, rushed in upon him 
with their swords drawn ; and as they came near 
he saw that they were what he had supposed them 
to be — members of the ducal guard. 

“ Hold !” he shouted, starting back against the 
edge of the platform. “ What means this violence ? 
Who are you 

“ We'll let you know who we are,” returned the 
foremost of the guardsmen, stopping for an instant 
when he reached the body of his fallen companion. 
“ I think for once we’ll take a dead prisoner into 
our hands ! — Look, my brothers,” he continued, 
addressing his followers, “ this wretch has slain our 
lieutenant, and he acts as though he meant to serve 
us the same. There’s no mercy now !” 

With fierce oaths the three stout soldiers set upon 
our hero, and the appearance was, that they would 
soon overcome him. They evidently looked to see 
him fall at once ; but in this they were disappointed^ 
Still they were very good swordsmen, and so keenly 
did they ply their blades that the youth had as 
much as he could do to defend himself. Had he 
but taken the precaution to wear his shirt of mail, 


Need of More Plotting, 


79 


he might have laughed at their blows while he 
swept them from his path ; but as it was, he was 
forced to defend every part of his body with his 
own sword. 

“ Saint Peter !” cried one of the villains, “ can we 
not hit this fellow ? Let me take a fair sweep at 
him. There !” 

If the rascal had kept his tongue to himself his 
furious onset might have accomplished something ; 
but' his boastful words had caused his companions 
to fall back so that he might have room ; and thus, 
for the moment, he was the youth’s only antagonist. 
His sword came down with a powerful sweep, but 
was caught and turned away, and before he could 
recover himself he was pricked through the neck. 
At this time the other two lunged forward, and they 
might have borne the young armorer down had not 
the play been suddenly interrupted. 

“ Orlando ! Orlando !” cried a woice from the 
gate-way, accompanied by the sound of rushing 
feet. 

“ Ha ! here ! here ! Quick, my good 

Michael !” 

It was Michael Totilla, and just in season. As he 
came near he saw how the case stood ; and, without 
hesitation, he drew his sword and cleaved one of 
the villains heads clean from its shoulders ; and in 
a moment more the remaining ruffian was sent to 
earth with his skull almost severed in twain. 

“ By the mass, my good Michael,” said Orlando, 
as soon as he had time to take breath, “ this is a 
curious work.” 


8o The Outcast of Milan. 


“ Indeed it is, my master,” returned the artizan, 
gazing around him. “ If I mistake not, yonder lies 
the huge body of Matteo.” 

Yes,” replied Orlando. He attacked me first ; 
and as I slew him, these other three followed his 
example.” And thereupon the youth related min- 
utely all that had taken place. 

“ I came just in time,” said Michael, after he had 
heard the story. “ I feared there might be some 
danger when Cinthia told me that you had gone 
out ; for I knew there had been people lurking 
around the house ; so I came away after you as 
quickly as possible ; and my instinct was true. 
They meant to finish you, surely.” 

“Aye. And who, think you, planned this thing ?” 
queried Orlando. 

“ It must have been some one who held control of 
the guard,” replied Michael. 

“ Certainly ; and I think the duke is the prime 
mover. But what shall we do now ?” ■ 

This was a question which Michael did not feel 
competent to answer. 

“You have but to command,” he said, “and 
I will obey ; but I can give no advice in this 
case.” 

Orlando reflected awhile, and finally he said : 

“I think I will go home and sleep upon it, and in 
the morning I shall be prepared to decide. We will 
let these bodies remain as they are, and those may 
find them who will. Can you recommend anything- 
better?” 

, “ No, my master.” 


Need of More Plotting, 8i 


“ Then let us return.” 

The armorers reached their house without further 
molestation, and as they did not wish that Cinthia 
should know what had transpired, they said nothing 
of the bloody fray, but conversed as though nothing 
unusual had happened ; and so they retired to their 
rest without awakening any suspicion in the mind 
of the anxious wife. 

On the following morning, Orlando had made up 
his mind to go to the duke and make a plain state- 
ment of what had transpired. 

“It is better so,” he said. “ Of course the finding 
of those dead bodies will make much noise, and it is 
not impossible that the work may be traced to us ; 
in which case our silence would weigh against us. 
I shall repair directly to the audience chamber, while 
it is open to the public, and there make my state- 
ment. What think you ?” 

Michael might not have advised -such a course ; 
but now that his master had presented it, he 
thought it a good one. And Cinthia, too, finally 
came to look upon it in the same light. She had 
learned what had transpired, and her gratitude for 
Orlando’s escape had partially overcome the dispo^ 
sition to fear. 

“ Certainly,” she said, after due deliberation ; 
“you must go. If you openly avow the truth, the 
duke will not dare to do you open harm ; and as for 
his secret hate, I do not think that this event can 
increase it. In short, I do not believe that Manfred 
can have any greater disposition to harm you on 
account of this, than he has already had.” 


82 


The Outcast of Milan, 


You speak wisely," said Orlando; “and your 
voice has decided me. My course is plain, and I 
shall follow it, trusting in God for the triumph of 
right." 

At a proper time our hero arrayed himself in full 
knightly costume, with the jeweled cross upon his 
breast, and the conqueror’s scarf upon his shoulder, 
in which state he proceeded to the ducal palace. 
When he entered the audience chamber he found 
quite a crowd collected, and the duke was just ques- 
tioning some of the guard concerning the death of 
Matteo and his companions. The event had created 
quite an excitement, though it was not the cause of 
much mourning. 

“ If Matteo has been slain, depend upon it, he 
deserved it," remarked a man who wore the garb of 
a merchant. 

“Aye," responded another ; “and we are well rid 
of a villain, too." 

“You speak truly," added a third person. “I 
have heard it whispered — and I believe it true — that 
this same Matteo has been engaged with the robbers 
that infest the country, and that his uniform has 
been a cloak for many outrages." 

Orlando heard all this, and he saw that the 
speakers were men of influence in society ; and he 
observed, furthermore, that those who stood near, 
and had overheard the remarks, seemed to sympa- 
thize with them. This gave him new heart, and he 
approached the ducal chair with more confidence 
than he had before felt. 

When Manfred first beheld our hero, his brow 


Need of More Plotting, 


S3 


grew dark and scowling, and his frame quivered 
from head to foot ; but when he saw how the people 
made way for the youth, and how they murmured 
their admiration of his noble bearing, he brought 
his feelings under control, and received the knight 
as was befitting to the rank. 

“ Ah, Sir Orlando,” he said, struggling mightily 
to form his speech, “ you have come just in season 
to hear news. Four of our ducal guard were killed 
last night upon the tilting ground.” 

“The event is not new to me, my lord,” returned 
Orlando; “and it is to explain the affair that has 
called me here this morning.” 

“ Ha,” cried the duke, with a slight start ; “ if 
such be the case, I will give thee private audience.” 

“ No, my lord. I prefer to speak publicly. The 
matter is one of public interest, and I would have 
my statement made in the presence of those who 
have already heard something of the event. I think 
such is the proper course.” 

However much Manfred may have wished to hush 
the voice of the knight, he dared not, after this, 
refuse to hear his statement before the audience ; 
so, with as good grace as he could command, he 
directed him to proceed. 

“ My lord,” said Orlando, speaking in a bold, frank 
tone, “ thus it was.” And thereupon he gave a full 
and particular account of his meeting with Matteo — 
of the unprovoked attempt of the huge bravo upon 
his life — of his slaying the wretch — of the subse- 
quent attack by the three guardsmen who had been 
concealed behind the paling— of his killing one of 


84 


The Outcast of Milan. 


them — of the opportune arrival of his friend, Michael 
Totilla — and of the final death of the other two 
assassins. 

“ Thus did it transpire, my lord ; and I have 
taken this first opportunity to make the matter 
known to you, that you may pronounce upon it as 
in your wisdom you' may determine.” 

Hugh de Castro moved to the duke’s side, and 
whispered into his ear, but Manfred shook his head. 

“ It is not probable,” said de Castro, aloud, ‘‘ that 
our guardsmen would thus provoke a peaceable citi- 
zen without cause. There must be some mistake.” 

It is most marvellous,” added the duke. 

Aye,” responded Orlando, you may well say 
that, my lord. But,” he continued, casting his eyes 
around the chamber, “ perhaps your highness has 
been deceived touching the character of this Matteo. 
May he not have been a villain ! May he not have 
been a robber? May he not have been in the habit 
of using the authority of his office as a cloak for 
gross crimes ?” 

“ Call for the evidence, and you shall have wit- 
nesses by the score !” said a voice in a distant part 
of the room. 

Manfred sprang from his seat, with the fire of pas- 
sion starting from every feature. 

“ Who speaks ? Who dares to interrupt me ?” 

There was no answer to this ; but as the duke 
cast his eyes over the multitude he could plainly see 
that the mass of those present were ready to echo 
the sentiment of the unknown speaker. And again 
he wrestled with himself, and gained the victory. 


Need of More Plotting. 85 


“Sir Orlando Vendorme,” he said, with a slight 
hiss in his tone — for he could not quite hide all feel- 
ing — “ I must accept your version of this strange 
affair, because, by virtue of your knightly vows, you 
are subject to a higher tribunal should you perjure 
yourself. But, fair sir,” he went on, with a soften- 
ing manner, “I do not doubt your statements ; and 
I thank you for your promptness in giving me 
information.” 

“ Is my presence required further ?” inquired the 
youth. 

“ No. We would be glad to confer with you on 
other subjects, but other business is upon our hands, 
and time presses.” 

With a low bow Orlando withdrew, and as he 
passed from the chamber, a large number followed 
him out into the court, some to greet him on the 
score of old acquaintance, and some to gaze upon he 
who had overcome the prince and the captain in the 
joust, and slain the giant Matteo in a hapd-to-hand 
encounter. 

Manfred seemed to have little heart for the dis- 
patch of business after Vendorme had gone ; and as 
soon as possible he cleared his docket, and left the 
audience-chamber, his captain following close upon 
his heels. 

“ By the blood of my heart,” cried the duke, when 
he reached his closet, “ what shall be done now ? 
Hath this fellow a charmed life ?” 

“ He hath had most marvellous fortune,” replied 
de Castro, smiting himself with vexation. 


86 The Outcast of Milan, 


“ But the end is not yet. And yet I would see 
the end of this upstart, my captain.’* 

‘‘You shall see it, my lord.” 

“ But how ? I thought when Matteo was sworn to 
the work, that he had him most surely.” 

“ So did I; but we were mistaken. However, his 
lease of liberty is not long.” 

“Mark me, de Castro; our own safety may 
depend upon a speedy removal of this Vendorme.” 

“ How can that be, my lord ?” 

“I don’t know. I can only assure you that I feel 
it. Did you not mark how the crowd stood by him? 
how they gloried in his deeds ? and how they fol- 
lowed him from the chamber? I dare not trust 
such inflammable material with my people. These 
Milanese are a passionate set, and ripe for mischief. 
And, my captain, I do not trust much to their love 
for me.” 

“True, my lord.” 

“ Nor in their love for you, either, de Castro.” 

“ True again, your highness. I know them as well 
as you do.” 

“ And do you not believe that they would glory 
in following such a champion as this Orlando Ven- 
dorme, if they should once fall into his lead ?” 

“ By my soul, I do.” 

“ And,” pursued the duke, “ his knighthood would 
give him good character for such leadership.” 

“ You speak my own thoughts, my lord.” 

“ Then we must have him. We have failed 
once — ” 

“ But,” interrupted de Castro, smiting his fists 


The End of a Dark Journey, 87 


together, ** we will not fail again ! I have a plan, 
safe and sure." 

Mind you," said Manfred, there must be no 
noise — no outward sign; fori know that the youth 
hath powerful friends." 

“ Rest easy, my lord. I have it in my mind, and 
the execution shall be swift and secret. There shall 
be no second escape. The upstart shall disappear as 
quietly as the sun goes down at the close of day." 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE END OF A DARK JOURNEY. 

Orlando Vendorme returned to his shop, where he 
found Michael and his wife extremely anxious. 

“ Not wholly on your account have I worried," 
said Cinthia, after our hero had taken a seat. “ My 
husband is somewhat implicated, and I have feared 
for him." 

“ You need fear no more," returned Orlando. 
“The duke has heard the whole truth, and he has 
dismissed the case. If there is danger beyond this, 
there must be another pretext for it." 

“For myself," remarked Michael, “I have no idea 
that Manfred will cherish vengeance, but for you I 
have not the assurance." 

“ I understand you," said Orlando, “ and I am pre- 


88 


The Outcast of Milan, 


pared to have a care for myself. I know that the 
duke hates me, and I know that the prince hates me, 
and I know that Hugh de Castro hates me, and 
furthermore, I have become convinced that they will 
try to remove me from their way. Why they should 
feel thus — why they should regard me with such 
deadly hatred — I cannot understand.” 

“ I can understand it,” said Cinthia. “ I think it 
all very plain.” 

Both the men regarded her curiously. 

“ The duke and the prince have not forgotten that 
Rosabel of Bergamo loves you.” 

“ I think she is well cured of that folly by this 
time,” said Orlando. 

“ No, no,” returned Cinthia, who did not like to 
have her ideas disputed. “ The love of a true 
woman is not so easily turned from its object. I can 
read her heart as plainly as though it beat in my own 
bosom. I know that her affections did once become 
fixed on you, and I do not think that your subsequent 
misfortunes have weakened the emotion. What is 
the inducement presented to her to turn from you ? 
It is the prospect 6f marriage with the brutal Ludo- 
vico. Merciful Heaven ! what a choice is that ! Do 
you think that her emotion when she bestowed the 
conqueror’s scarf upon you was without meaning } 
I tell you, Orlando Vendorme, the duke and the 
prince have reason to fear you. I can see it. I know 
where the trouble is. The castle of Bergamo, with 
all its belongings, is the prize, and they cannot afford 
to lose it.” 

“ Never mind,” interposed Michael, with an impa- 


The End of a Dark Journey. 


tient gesture ; let that be as it may, of one thing 
we are assured : There is danger, and our friend 
must keep clear of it.” 

“You speak truly,” said Orlando, “and I have 
resolved upon my course. I shall finish the shirt of 
mail for that young lord of Hartburg as soon as I 
can, and then I shall quit Milan forever !” He spoke 
sadly, and with his hand pressed upon his bosom. 
In a few moments he raised his head, and added : 

“ And while I remain here, I shall keep myself 
within the old house. There is nothing to call me 
forth, and I shall finish my work more speedily. I 
think that will be the safest course.” 

“Aye,” cried Michael, “ the safest by far. Adhere 
to that, and there can be no danger. And — perhaps 
— when you leave Milan, you will allow me to go 
with you.” 

“ We’ll see about that, Michael.” 

“ I am in earnest, my master.” 

“Very well — we’ll see. And now I think it is 
time we had dinner — eh, Cinthia?” 

After dinner Orlando put on his working garb and 
took his place at the bench, where he worked rapidly 
until late into the night. On the following morn- 
ing he came down, and found Cinthia alone in the 
kitchen. He crossed the room several times, and 
twice he moved as though he would go towards the 
shop, but he did not go. Finally he stopped near to 
where the housewife stood. 

“ Cinthia,” he said, with a hesitation that betrayed 
his emotion, “ you spoke yesterday of the princess 


90 


The Outcast of Milan. 


Rosabel. You said that she loved me. Have you 
seen her since I was banished from the city ?” 

“ Goodness me !” cried the little woman, what a 
question. Where should I have seen her ?” 

“ I did not know — " 

“ Ah, my brother, I am sorry I spoke as I did. I 
did not think, when I introduced the subject of the 
princess, that you cherished anything like love for 
her.” 

‘‘And did you think that the love of a true man 
could not be constant ?” returned Orlando, with a 
tinge of bitterness in his tone. 

“Forgive me, my brother! O, forgive me! I 
did not think what I was saying. I did not know as 
you ever gave your heart to the princess.” 

“ Aye, Cinthia — mad as it may have been, I did give 
her my heart, and I allowed myself to dream of her 
as a prize to be won.” 

“ How could you hope to win her?” 

“She would have solved the problem herself, if 
the duke had not interfered.” 

“I know,” said Cinthia “but you cannot hope for 
that opportunity again.” 

“ I know not why,” returned Orlando, with more 
boldness. “ If she was willing to flee with me when 
I was but an humble artizan, why should she not be 
willing to do it now that I am elevated to the order 
of knighthood ?” 

“ But she was driven to desperation then.” 

“ How ?” 

“ By prospect of marriage with a man whom she 
despised.” 


The End of a Dark Journey. 


91 


^‘And has she not the same prospect before her 
now ?” 

“ Ah, my brother, you must not let your thoughts 
run in that channel. It is dangerous. If it does 
not bring destruction upon you, it will ruin your 
peace of mind. Let the princess wed in her legiti- 
mate sphere, and do you look in another direction.” 

Orlando was about to reply, when he was inter- 
rupted by the entrance of Michael, and so the con- 
versation dropped. 

The shirt of mail progressed rapidly, and the 
workmen believed they were producing a piece of 
armor which could not be excelled. The body of 
the garment was finished, and the shoulder-pieces 
attached, and it was then put to the test. The finest 
tempered blade made no impression upon it, and it 
turned the point of a lance surely. 

It was late at night, and Michael proposed that 
-they should suspend their labors and retire. 

“ I cannot go yet,” said Orlando. “ I must attach 
this arm-piece. But you can go. Go, Michael, and 
leave me here. It will not take me a great while.” 

Michael Totilla hesitated, but finally he replied : 

“ If you wish to work here alone, I suppose there 
can be no harm in my retiring ; though, to tell you 
the truth, Orlando, I would rather that you should 
leave the task until morning. You have done 
enough for one day. Come, let us go.” 

« No — not now. If you think there can be 
danger, you will cause me to laugh at you. The 
doors are secured, and the windows closed,” 


92 


The Outcast of Milan. 


Without further remonstrance Michael bid his 
companion good-nighty and left the shop. 

Orlando worked away upon the subtile meshes 
for half an hour or more after he had been left 
alone, and then he leaned back from his bench, and 
murmured to himself of one who occupied a deep 
place in his thoughts. He was thus engaged when 
he fancied that he heard a light rap upon the door 
that opened into the street. He listened, and in a 
few moments the sound was repeated. It was a rap 
— there could be no mistake. He arose and moved 
cautiously to the door, where he listened once more, 
and pretty soon the rap came again. It was very 
low and careful, and seemed too delicate for the 
summons of a man. He reflected a moment, and 
resolved that he would at least find out who was 
there. He asked the question, and the answer he 
received was a request for him to open the door. 

Surely it was a female voice that spoke. 

“Who is it?” he repeated. “I cannot open my 
doors at this hour to a stranger.” 

“ I cannot give my name here,” replied the appli- 
cant. “ If my voice is not a sufficient passport, I 
must go away as I came. I am alone, and must not 
be seen by curious eyes. Will you not open to me ?” 

Orlando did not think of danger now. Aye — that 
voice was a passport to his confidence — not that he 
had ever heard it before, but simply because it was 
the voice of a female, and without further question 
he unbarred the door, and drew it open. A woman 
entered, and as she did so bade him close the door 
as quickly as possible. 


The End of a Dark Journey, 93 


I must not be seen,” she said, “or there may be 
danger to one who is already in danger enough.” 

Our hero closed and barred the door as he had 
been requested, and then turned towards his strange 
visitor. She was enveloped in a large cloak of dark 
cloth, which completely covered lier head and con- 
cealed her face. 

“ Lady, your wish has been obeyed,” announced 
Orlando, as he approached the spot where she stood 
near his bench. 

“ I think I speak with Orlando Vendorme ?” 

“ You do.” 

“ Are you alone ?” 

“ Only you and myself are present ; and I think 
there are none others stirring beneath this roof. 
Now, lady, may I know who and what you are T* 

The visitor threw her cloak back from .her head 
and shoulders, revealing a pair of sparkling black 
eyes, and a very pretty young face. She was not 
bewitching, nor was she beautiful ; but she was fair 
and intelligent, and better looking than the majority 
of females of her age. And when she spoke she 
exhibited a set of pearly teeth, and a curious smile 
played around the little dimples in her cheeks and 
chin. In short, as the youth gazed upon her, he 
fancied that she was just such a being as the prin- 
cesses and maidens of the Orient used to send on 
secret missions of love. 

“ Sir knight,” spoke the girl, a little uneasily, “ I 
have come on a mission from one whom you will not 
disobey. Do you remember Rosabel of Bergamo ?” 


94 The Outcast of Milan, 


“ Yes,” replied Orlando, quickly. I remember 
her as one who can never be forgotten.” 

“ Would you obey a message from her ?” 

“ If I had assurance that it came from her I 
would obey it, though mortal danger stood in the 
way.” 

“ You speak as my mistress hoped you would 
speak, sir knight ; and I think I may deliver her 
message. Ever since you were banished she has 
been threatened with the hateful prospect of giv- 
ing her hand to Ludovico ; and thus far she has 
escaped by such means as were in her power. A 
part of the time she was really sick, as you may have 
heard ; but her excuses will avail her no longer. 
She must have help, or her doom is sealed. In this 
great need, fair sir, she calls upon you. Will you 
help her?” 

“ Aye, with my very life, if need be,” cried 
Orlando, with soul-sent energy. “ Point out to me 
the way in which it can be done, and I am at your 
service.” 

“ The princess herself must tell you that,” said 
the messenger, with another of those peculiar 
smiles ; but the smile died out in a very few 
seconds, and again she showed signs of uneasi- 
ness. 

“ Lady,” returned our hero, laying his hand 
upon his bosom, “ I am at your service in behalf of 
the Princess Rosabel. And I say this without hope 
of reward other than that which must come to me 
through the knowledge that I have rendered needed 


The End of a Dark Journey, 95 


assistance to one so lovely and deserving. My life 
is her's, and to her welfare is it devoted.” 

“ Then you will go with me to the palace, sir.” 

“ Did the princess send you on such an errand ?” 

“ Yes. If you were willing to come, and would 
not betray her, she would see you as soon as possi- 
ble. This is the third night I have watched for 
you, and if another day finds my mistress without 
help, it may be too late. She is very anxious.” 

“ I will go with you.” 

But you must not be recognized in the street. I 
can find a safe entrance to the palace ; but we may 
meet some one on the way who might know the 
champion knight, and that would be dangerous.” 

“ The caution is a proper one, lady ; and I will be 
with you in a moment sufficiently disguised. Will 
you wait here ?” 

The messenger answered in the affirmative, and 
Orlando retired to an adjacent room, where he 
buckled on his sword, and threw a long cloak over 
his shoulders. He stepped as lightly as possible, 
for he did not wish to arouse Michael or his wife ; 
and this thought of his friends brought another 
thought to his mind : Ought he to leave without 
letting them know something of his absence ? When 
he returned to the shop, he asked the girl if the 
business in hand would be likely to detain him 
beyond the night. 

“ I do not know,” she replied. “ But why do you 
ask ?” 

“I was thinking,” said Orlando, “that I ought 
not to leave my friends in suspense. If they arise 


96 


The Outcast of Milan. 


in the morning and find me gone, they will be very 
uneasy.” 

“ Indeed, fair sir, you forget the first stipulation. 
A message left for these people touching your 
absence might lead to a betrayal of your presence 
with the princess. No, no, if you go with me, you 
must leave no sign behind. But, sir, you are not 
urged. If you have one thought of hesitation, the 
princess would not have you come.” 

“ I have no thought of hesitation,” cried our hero, 
emphatically. “ I am ready to follow you ; or shall 
I lead the way ?” 

“ You had better allow me to lead,” said the mes- 
senger ; “ as I shall take a way which will be most 
likely to lead us to the palace unobserved.” 

“All right. Lead on.” 

The girl passed out from the shop, and when 
Orlando had followed her he stopped and locked the 
door behind him, leaving the key in the lock. He 
did this because he thought that Michael, when he 
found the key thus in the morning, would know that 
he had gone out of his own free will. 

“ Now,” said the girl, drawing her own cloak over 
her head, “ let us hurry on. Cover your head.” 

The youthful knight did as directed, and followed 
on without speaking, his guide leading by a quiet, 
unlighted way, where few people traveled in the 
night. They reached the palace by a small postern 
to which the girl had a key ; and having traversed a 
wide court, they came to a porch, the door of which 
opened to the touch. Beyond this was a vaulted 
passage, so dark that the eye was of no use. 


The End of a Dark Journey, 97 


“ Give me your hand,*’ said the girl. “ I know 
the way, and will lead you carefully. A light might 
betray us.” 

This seemed all right to our hero, and he followed 
on without hesitation. They walked slowly in the 
utter darkness — walked on for some distance — and 
finally began to descend. At the foot of a flight of 
stone steps they came to a place where there seemed 
to be a door, and beyond this the atmosphere was 
damp and chill, like a deep, close cellar. 

” Do you hesitate ?” asked the fair guide. 

“ No,” replied Orlando ; “ I do not hesitate ; but 
I was wondering why we took so strange a course.” 

“ If you knew the secrets of this great old palace,” 
said the girl, “ you would not wonder at all. If we 
would reach the apartments of the princess without 
being seen by the guard, we must go lower still. 
Since the new wing was built, where the duke now 
abides, the old apartments of state have been given 
up to the women ; and it so happens that Rosabel 
occupies the rooms foi^merly appropriated to the use 
of the chamberlain, and which were directly over, 
and in communication with, the dungeons. Unknown 
to the duke, Rosabel has gained possession of the 
keys of these deep recesses, and if she leaves the 
palace to-night, she will come this way.” 

This speech reassured the knight, and without 
further question he followed on. Very slowly did 
the girl grope her way, with one hand upon the wall; 
and at length there was another descent. This time 
the stairs wound around in a complete circle, and at 
the foot they found the air colder and more damp. 


98 


The Outcast of Milan, 


“ It is not much further,” said the guide. In a 
little while we will find light. Step carefully — care- 
fully* There — if you will stop here I will bring a 
lamp. We are beyond the walk of the sentinels.” 

“ Hark !” 

“ What do you hear?” 

“ I thought I heard a step close at hand.” 

** It was but your fancy, sir.” 

“ Why do you tremble so ?” 

“I have been excited. This is strange business 
for me. I have not the nerves of a man. Will you 
wait here, sir ?” 

Orlando said he would wait ; and yet he did not 
like the feelings that were beginning to force them- 
selves upon him. It was a very strange way of pas- 
sage to the apartments of the princess ; and then he 
was sure that he had heard a heavy step close at 
hand, as though some one had stumbled. And, 
furthermore, what made the girl tremble so ? If she 
was used to the passage, and was faithfully serving 
her beautiful mistress, why should she be so strangely 
moved ? But it was too late now to retrace his 
steps, or to call for an explanation, for the damsel 
had gone, and he was alone. 

** Hark ! What sound was that ? 

A low, harsh creaking, as of the grating of rusty 
hinges ! 

And that ! What is it ?” 

The clang of a door, and the rattle of bolts and 
chains ! 

Orlando Vendorme starts forward with a wild 
movement ; but he is too late. He is shut in by 


Failing, 


99 


walls of stone, and an iron door is closed upon him! 
He hoars a sound as of the shuffling of feet, and the 
murmur of voices ; and then all is still as death, and 
as dark as the grave. He puts out his hands, and 
gropes his way around ; but the circuit is very nar- 
row, and there is no passage beyond. He cries out 
for help, — he asks why this foul thing is done ; but 
only the dull, dismal echo of his own voice comes 
back in answer 1 


CHAPTER IX. 

FAILING. 

The duke of Milan arose in the morning, and 
when he entered his closet he found Hugh de Castro 
there ; and at the same time the prince Ludovico 
came in by another door. 

“Ah, my captain,” cried Manfred, “I see success 
stamped upon thy face. There has been no mis- 
carriage this time ?” 

“ No, my lord.” 

“ What,” exclaimed the prince, starting forward, 
and, for the first time since the tournament, moving 
without any show of lameness, “ is the dog dead ?” 

“ Not dead,” returned de Castro; “ but he is safe 
within our power.” 

“No, no,” cried Ludovico; “he is not safe for us 
while he is alive.” 


loo The Outcast of Milan, 


“ He is where he can very easily be disposed of,” 
remarked the captain, with a shrug of the shoulders. 

“ Stop a moment,” said the duke, putting out his 
hand to his son, who was upon the point of speak- 
ing again. Let me have the captain’s report. 
Now, de Castro, what have you done T 

“ My lord,” was the reply, “ I have seen Orlando 
Vendorme lodged in the deepest dungeon of the old 
palace. He is in the place where Marmori died ; 
where Sforza died ; where Deletti died; and where 
the life of even the great Yusef wore itself away. 
He is down in that rock-bound pit, and the door of 
triple iron is bolted upon him.” 

“ Did you put him there, de Castro ?” 

I closed the door upon him, my lord.” 

“ Then there are others, beside ourselves, who 
know his whereabouts ?” 

“ One other your highness.” 

‘‘ Only one ?” 

That is all.” 

Who is it ?” 

‘‘ My lord, a lowly person, of my own household, 
did the work for me ; and it was done upon the 
express condition that the name of the doer should 
never pass my lips in connection with the deed. It 
has been done — done most faithfully. The outcast 
was found alone — he was led away from his shop in 
the dead of night, following of his own free will, and 
lodged in the deep dungeon without being seen by 
other eyes than those engaged in the work.” 

‘‘ But how did he follow so willingly ?” 


Failing, 


TOI 


“ The name of the princess of Bergamo was used, 
my lord.” 

“ Ha — and he fancied that he was being led to her 
chamber, did he?” cried Ludovico. 

“ Exactly,” replied de Castro. 

“ Good !” said the duke. “ And, my captain, 
since your work has been so faithfully executed, I 
will not ask for the name of your agent.” 

And now,” asked the prince, eagerly, “ how is the 
dog to be despatched ?” 

“ He is despatched already,” replied Manfred. 

“ What— is he killed ?” 

“ No, my son ; there is no need of that. He is 
where mortal eye can never see him alive again, and 
there let him rot ! I have a reason for this. When 
the fellow is missed, there will be much inquiry for 
him ; and that inquiry may come from high quarters. 
When it does come, I must be able to swear that the 
knight has suffered no injury at my hands. I shall 
take thac fearful oath, which no knight has yet 
dared to break, that, to my knowledge, no hair of 
Orlando Vendorme’s head has been harmed. My 
word, given thus, cannot be doubted ; and so we 
shall escape the accusation.” 

His highness is right,” said de Castro, addressing 
the prince. “ It had better be so.” 

A little reflection convinced Ludovico that his 
father had adopted the proper course ; and without 
further opposition he gave in. But he did not wear 
a pleasant look as he thus assented. He was not 
wholly satisfied. His feelings of enmity towards the 
prisoner were deeper than those entertained by his 


102 


The Outcast of Milan, 


father. Vendorme had overcome him in the list, and 
exposed him to the ridicule of the multitude ; but 
that was as nothing compared with the other cause 
of hatred he had. Orlando Vendorme had touched 
him in a deeper, tenderer spot. Upon the outcast 
the princess had lavished her affections — the maiden 
who was to become his wife hated him, and loved the 
armorer. He was willing that Vendorme should die 
in his dungeon ; but he wanted some keener sense of 
triumph than he had yet experienced. He wanted 
to gloat over his fallen rival. 

“ I think,” said the duke, “ that this matter is fin- 
ished.” 

“ Safely and surely,” responded de Castro. 

“ And what says my son ?” 

“ Let the dog rot in his dungeon !” And as the 
prince thus spoke he strode from the apartment. 

% * iic 

Orlando Vendorme when he found that there was 
no way of egress from his prison, took some little 
pains to discover the exact character of the place. 
That the dungeon was very deep down below the sur- 
face of the earth was evident from the chill and heavy 
dampness of the air ; and that the walls were thick 
and solid he knew from the echo when he stepped. 
Four paces measured the distance across the dungeon 
in one direction, and six paces in the other. There 
was no bed — no stool — not even the projection of a 
rock, upon which he could recline ; so, when he 
sought to rest his weary limbs, he sank down upon 
the damp, cold pavement, and leaned against the 


Failing. 


103 


wall. In this condition he slept. When he awoke, 
he fancied that the night must have passed ; but 
there was no light in his prison. He arose and 
groped around awhile, and then sat down again. An 
hour — another hour — and another passed, and yet no 
light came to him. Did daylight ever reach that 
place ? 

“ No, no,” he murmured to himself, “ the sun never 
looks into this depth. It must be far into the day, for 
I know that I have been here many hours. Will they 
not bring me food ? I am hungry, and my throat is 
parched. Hark !” 

He heard a footstep approaching and he arose to 
his feet. Pretty soon there was a grating sound close 
at hand, and directly a stream of light struggled into 
the place. The prisoner looked, and he was able to 
discover that a little wicket had been opened in the 
door — a wicket not larger than a man’s hand, and 
even at that guarded by a bar. 

“Orlando Vendorme !” pronounced a voice. 

“I am here,” answered our hero, moving towards 
the door. 

“Ha, ha, ha; you are there, are you !” 

It was the voice of the prince Ludovico. The first 
speech had been so strangely echoed by the solid 
walls that it had not been recognized. 

“How do you find yourself, sir knight of the silver 
cross ?” 

“What mean you ?” demanded Orlando, coming 
close to the wicket. Which was very near on a level 
with his face. “If I mistake not, you are Ludovico 
of Milan ?” 


104 


The Outcast of Milan. 


^‘Aye, sir — I am; and I have come to bid you fare- 
well !" 

How those words struck into Vendorme’s soul ! 
Their meaning was too apparent. And yet he could 
not give credit to the evidence. 

“How, my lord 1 Do you say farewell ?" 

“Yes." 

“Why do you say farewell? Are you going 
away ?" 

“Yes. I am going away from this place. Ho, 
ho — you are a dweller in the palace, sir knight; and 
you are highly honored, too. Few men are so for- 
tunate as you. Even the duke may, by some stroke 
of unkind fate, find himself without a home; but 
you are better provided for. So long as you live 
this roof shall cover you ! Is not that a consola- 
tion ?" 

Orlando could now see the outlines of Ludovico’s 
face, as the light of the torch fell upon them, and the 
features were distorted by a most fiendish expres- 
sion. The meaning of the demon could be no 
longer mistaken. 

“Sir prince," the prisoner cried, with a realizing 
sense of his own helplessness," do you mean that I am 
here to die — that I shall not leave this place alive ?" 

“Aye, Orlando Vendorme, I mean it ! You have 
looked upon the sun for the last time ! For the last 
time have you seen the blooming earth ! and for the 
last time have you breathed the fresh air ! Aye — 
and one thing more let me tell you: For the last 
time have you tasted food, and for the last time 
pressed the thirst-quenching draught to your lips !" 


Failing, 


105 


“Oh ! no ! no !“ exclaimed the prisoner, clasping 
his hands in frightful agony. “There is no fiend in 
Tartarian depths could mete out such a doom!” 

“And yet, Vendorme, such a doom is yours ! Did 
you think the prince of Milan had no way of 
revenge ? Did you think you could put your heel 
upon our house ? Once you were banished from 
Milan, and for a deadly offence; you might have 
escaped further punishment. But you dared to 
brave our authority. Did you think, when you 
smote me down in the list, that that would be the 
end of it ? Did you think that we would allow a 
dog of an outcast to wear a laurel upon my defeat?” 

“Oh !” exclaimed Orlando, “and is this the return 
of a brave man in defeat ? Can you seek such 
revenge because I overcame you in the list ! Give 
me my liberty, and I will give you any honorable 
satisfaction you may demand. I will meet both you 
and Hugh de Castro— I, single-handed, against the 
pair of you. I will meet you even at greater odds. 

I will strip off all my armor, and you may be clad 
in steel from head to foot. I will meet you with my 
dagger against your sword. I will meet you with- 
out shield or buckler. Will you not grant me this ?” 

“No !” thundered Ludovico. “This revenge is 
too sweet to be given up. You die where you are!” 

“And this is the keeping of your knightly oath, 
sir prince.” 

“ Hold, dog !” cried the youthful tyrant, hissing 
hib words out between his clenched teeth. “ If you 
imagine that I exult thus over your fate because you 


io6 


The Outcast of Milan, 


won the prize at the tournament you are much mis- 
taken. Did you not know that I had planned to 
make Rosabel ii Bergamo my wife ?” 

“ I did — I have heard so,” replied Orlando, with 
quivering voice. 

“ Aye — you know it, and the mention of her name 
should open your eyes to the true cause of my 
vengeance.” 

“ For my friendship towards the princess,” said 
our hero, “ I was banished. What have I done 
since ?” 

“Why did you follow your guide hither last 
night ?” retorted the prince. “Ah — you hesitate, do 
you ? Oho — you think to play upon my innocence ! 
By the powers of darkness, my doomed one, I know 
very well how your feelings have run. When you 
came hither, you fancied you were coming to my 
lady's chamber. Out upon thee, dog ! Thy doom 
is fixed. Here shalt thou lie and starve ! — starve and 
rot ! When your flesh is tender enough, the wolves 
shall pick your bones ! And so — farewell !” With 
this Ludovico closed the wicket. 

Orlando drew his sword and started forward, 
meaning, in his frenzy, to plunge it through the 
open space, but ere he had gained the door the slide 
had been closed, and he was once more in total 
darkness. He cried aloud to the prince — cried for 
mercy — cried for one moment more of intercourse — 
but no answer came back save that same horrible, 
echo, like the voice of the tomb. When the prisoner 
knew that Ludovico had gone, he sank back against 


Failing, 


107 


the wall, and let his sword drop from his nerveless 
grasp. 

“ Merciful God!” he gasped, in a hoarse, horrified 
whisper, “ is this thing possible ? O, it is too dread- 
ful 1” 

And yet, when he reflected, he could not doubt 
the words he had heard. When he became more 
calm, he stooped down and picked up his sword, and 
then took his seat once more upon the cold stones. 
No food ! — no drink ! He had been hungry, but the 
feeling had gone from him, and he was now athirst. 
And the thirst was more pressing than had been the 
hunger. Gradually his tongue became parched, 
and the torture began. He sucked the slimy drops 
from the damp walls, but the temporary cooling of 
the tongue could not quench the fire that was creep- 
ing down into his system. Once again he sought 
the door, and tried if he could not find some way of 
opening it ; but he might as well have knocked at 
the base of the Alps for a passage through their solid 
foundations. He cried out with all his power, in 
hopes that some kind ear might catch the sound of 
his voice 1 but when the dull, heavy echo fell back 
upon him, he knew that his tones could not reach 
far beyond his prison. 

“And thus,” he murmured, as he sank back 
exhausted against the wall, “ ends the earthly course 
of Orlando Vendorme ! Here come all my hopes 
and aspirations to their grave ! From this place 
there can be no escape. No, no, — I know my 
enemies too well. They will never relent. The 
wolf would sooner quit his prey than would these 


io8 


The Outcast of Milan. 


monsters loose their hold on me. O, if I could but 
get one word to Michael. If I could tell him where 
I was ! But he can finish the shirt of mail, and the 
lord of Hartburg will get his coveted prize. Ah — that 
meeting with that strange boy was most unfortunate 
for me. Had I never met him, I should never have 
been knighted ; and if I had not been knighted, I 
should not have returned to Milan, and if I had not 
returned to Milan, I should not now be here. But 
— so runs the record of my fate ; and it may be 
that such was ordained from the beginning. Oh ! 
this burning of my soul ! — this fire in my throat ! 
Help ! — mercy !" 

Again and again did the famishing man press his 
parched and swollen tongue against the damp rocks, 
but the relief became less and less. 

“ I have one friend left,” he whispered, and he 
rested his weakening hand upon his sword-hilt. 
“Why should I die thus, in more than mortal agony, 
when one prick of this faithful blade will give me 
quick release from all my sufferings ? O, if no 
help can come — if this dark prison must be my 
end of earth — it is better that I should die so — far, 
far better ! And God will pardon me for the 
deed !” 

But not yet did the sufferer strike to end his 
pains. Once more he cried for help, — it was a low 
and feeble cry, for his voice was failing; and when 
he could cry no more he raised his whispered accents 
in prayer to heaven. 

Once he thought he heard footsteps again at the 
door of the dungeon; and when he raised his head 


Failing, 


109 


he saw faint beams of light struggling in through 
the grated wicket. He staggered to his feet, and 
begged for mercy. How long he had been there he 
could not tell. It must have been days — two — three 
and perhaps more. 

“ Is he dead ?” he heard a voice ask. 

** He may be,” another voice replied. 

“ No ! no !” the prisoner gasped, starting forward, 
and pressing his face against the bars. “ O, in 
heaven’s name give me help !” 

“ You’ll get help' soon enough,” said the first 
voice, in reply. It was the Duke of Milan who 
spoke. 

“ Let us go,” added the second voice. This was 
Hugh de Castro; and he spoke as though he liked 
not the scene. 

The prisoner would have put his thin hands 
through the opening to beg once more for mercy, 
but the wicket was closed suddenly, and he was 
again in darkness. And now the darkness was more 
horrible than before. Faint and sick, and racked 
with pain, he sunk down upon the hard, cold stones; 
and once again his quivering, fevered hand sought 
to grasp the hilt of his sword. Alas, even the 
strength to command that sole remaining friend was 
gone from him. 



CHAPTER X. 

THE DUKE IS PREPARED FOR MORE WORK. 

When Michael Totilla arose in the morning, and 
found that Orlando was gone, he felt somewhat 
uneasy; but when he found the key of the shop-door 
upon the outer side of the lock, he supposed that 
his young master might have slipped out just to take 
a breath of fresh air; so he waited till the break- 
fast hour quite easily. That hour came, but no 
Orlando appeared. They waited an hour, and still 
he did not come, 

“ There is something wrong,” said Michael. 

“Of course there is,” responded Cinthia. 

“ I felt it last night, when I left him alone at 
his work,” pursued the armorer. “ I ought not to 
have done it. And yet he must have gone out of 
his own free will; for I found the door locked, and 
the key upon the outside.” 

“ He must have gone out for a ramble,” suggested 
Cinthia, “intending to return in a short time, and 
some trouble has overtaken him.” 

So it appeared to Michael; and without further 
words he started out to make inquiries. All the 
forenoon he wandered up and down the city; but 




Prepared for More Work. 


1 1 1 


not a trace could he find of his missing master; and 
at the dinner hour he returned to his home, sad and 
dispirited, blaming himself for having left Orlando 
alone. 

Early in the afternoon a stranger called at the 
shop, and inquired for Vendorme. Michael knew 
thai- he had seen his visitor before, but he could not 
tell where. 

“ Do you seek the armorer on business ?” he 
inquired. 

“Yes,” replied the stranger; “you can call it 
business if you please. But I come to learn if all is 
well with him.” 

“ Are you interested ?” asked Michael, regarding 
his visitor curiously. 

“Yes, Michael Totilla, I am interested ; and since 
I know that you are a true friend to the youth, I will 
tell you why I am interested. You have seen Theo- 
dore of Hartburg ?” 

“ Yes.” 

‘ And Vendorme has been at work for him ?” 

“ Yes. He is making a fine mail for him.” 

“ Exactly.” 

“And I am Theodore's servant. My name is 
Gaspard.” 

“ Aye,” cried Michael ; “ I recollect you now. 
Yes, yes — I saw you with the Saxon knights at the 
tournament.” 

“I was there,” returned Gaspard, “and I saw you 
when you bore down your opponents in the ring. 
My master had two reasons for feeling interested in 
the welfare of Orlando Vendorme. First, he wanted 


II2 


The Outcast of MtCan, 


the marvellous shirt of mail, which Vendorme alone 
could make ; and, furthermore, he owed to the 
heroic youth a debt of gratitude which he wished to 
pay ; so he determined, if the thing were possible, 
to watch over his interests ; and to this end he sent 
me here to have an eye upon him. This morning I 
missed him ; and now the question is, where shall 
we find him ? When my young Lord of Hartburg 
asks what has happened to Orlando Vendorme, 
what shall I tell him ?” 

“Indeed, I know not," replied Michael. But if 
you be a friend, as I now believe you are, you will 
help me to search." 

“ And where would you search ?" 

“ I would search at the ducal palace, if I dared. I 
have already made inquiries in every other quarter." 

“Your suspicions are turned toward the palace?" 

“ Yes ; they have been from the first," said 
Michael ; “but I dared not go there ; not that I 
feared for myself ; but I dared not yet awaken the 
duke to the fact that my master was missing." 

“ I understand you," returned Gaspard, “ and I 
will myself see that immediate inquiry is made. I 
have friends in the city who will assist me. I think 
you do not doubt me ?" 

“ No," returned Michael, promptly. “ I believe 
you are what you say ; because I know, now that 
my memory serves me, that you are attached to the 
person of Theodore of Hartburg ; and I know that 
Theodore is my master’s friend. And so, sir, I shall 
trust you ; and there is full confidence between us." 

“ Thank you," said Gaspard. “ And," he added, 


Prepared for More Work. 1 1 3 


“ as a first confession in that confidence, I will tell 
you that I am not so much here to help Vendorme, 
as to give information to my master touching any 
harm that may befall him. And now I will away to 
make search for intelligence at the ducal palace ; 
and, as soon as possible, I will report to you.” 

When Gaspard had gone, Michael and Cinthia sat 
down and talked matters over. They had much to 
say of Orlando’s disappearance ; and they had also 
much to say of the visit of Gaspard of Saxony. 
There was something curious — very curious — Cinthia 
thought, in it. She could not understand it. It 
filled her mind with imaginings of the marvellous 
and mysterious. 

“ It is all very plain to me,” said Michael, — “just 
as plain as the nose upon my face.” 

“ Perhaps you’ll explain, then,” suggested the 
wife. 

“ Of course I will and the husband prepared to 
illustrate with his fingers. “ Now look. In the 
first place, this Theodore is Count of Hartburg, and 
I suppose he is a very wealthy young man.” 

“ He is only a boy,” interposed Cinthia. 

“ A boy in years,” replied Michael, “ but a man in 
understanding and authority. He was on the road, 
and was attacked by robbers ; and he would cer- 
tainly have been overcome — he and his party — but 
for the timely assistance of Vendorme. And so did 
Theodore have cause for deepest gratitude. Next — 
when the young count discovers the marvellous 
properties of the mail which his deliverer wears, he 
wants a garment of light material. Of course it 


1 14 The Outcast of Milan, 


must be made in Milan, and Vendorme must make 
it. But Vendorme is banished. How can the diffi- 
culty be met ? Very easily. Through Theodore’s 
means our master is knighted, and thus, by the laws 
of chivalry, the gates of Milan are open to him ; 
and he can now gain entrance to his shop. But 
there is trouble still. Manfred and Ludovico are 
enemies to Vendorme, and may seek to do him 
harm. Theodore knows this ; and, since the 
knightly armorer is at work for him, he feels in 
duty bound to look after his welfare. Do you 
understand it now ?” 

“ It is reasonable, as you have explained it, 
Michael ; and yet it is strange.” 

“ Of course it is strange. A great many things 
are strange ; but I have full confidence in Gaspard. 
His very face is a sufficient passport.” 

Cinthia had no further argument to make ; and 
when she had given her husband to understand that 
she coincided with him, she turned to the perform- 
ance of her household duties. 

Just in the edge of the evening Gaspard came 
back, and there was a deep cloud upon his face 

“You have not found him ?” said Cinthia. 

“ I have not,” was the reply. 

“ Have you been to the palace ?” asked Michael. 

“ Let me tell you,” returned Gaspard, drawing a 
chair near to the armorer and his wife, and sitting 
down. “ For me to have gone directly to the palace 
would have amounted to nothing. Marco Tor- 
quedo, a knight of Modena, one of the grand 
officers of the order of the silver cross, and one who 


Prepared for More Work. 115 


was present when Vendorme was exalted, was in 
this city, and to him I went. He, as in duty bound, 
proceeded at once to the palace, and made all pos- 
sible inquiries ; but he could learn nothing concern- 
ing our missing friend. The duke acknowledged 
that circumstances might point him out as one who 
had a desire to put the young knight away ; and 
so, of his own accord, he took the most solemn oath 
that man can take that he had not harmed a hair of 
Vendorme’s head — that he had not caused the same 
to be done — and that he did not know that harm 
had come to him. He furthermore offered the ser- 
vices of his guard to search for the missing, and 
gave Torquedo the freedom of the city for that pur- 
pose. I cannot think that Manfred has had any 
hand in taking our friend away.” 

“But how is it with the prince?” suggested 
Michael. 

“ Ludovico was, if possible, more earnest in his 
disavowal than was his father. He acknowledged 
that he hated Vendorme, and that he should be glad 
to know that the upstart was out of his way ; but 
thus far he had done nothing towards bringing 
about such a result.” 

“ Then what can have happened ?” cried Michael. 

“I think,” replied Gaspard, “that Vendorme 
must have left the city. He has other enemies 
besides the duke. The robbers of the Saveso are his 
enemies.” 

“ I know, I know,” muttered the armoror, with 
his hands working nervously together. “I know 
that the robber knights have a grudge against him ; 


ii6 The Outcast of Milan. 


but I have not yet turned my thoughts that way. If 
harm has come to my master, I fear that the Duke of 
Milan hath had some hand in it.” 

“ How !” returned Gaspard. “ Would you not 
take such an oath in evidence 

“ Ah, Manfred is a cold-blooded, heartless villain, 
and I know not how much his oath is worth. But I 
will wait — I may hear something more. To-morrow 
we will search again. You can leave the city, if you 
wish, but I shall remain within the walls ; for I do 
not believe that Orlando has gone out.” 

The Saxon looked earnestly into Michael’s face, 
and after a little thought, he said : 

“ It may be as you surmise. Manfred may have 
taken a false oath. If he has, I pity him !” 

“ Ha — is there then some — ” 

“ Hush. I have no explanation to make. If Man- 
fred has harmed the missing knight, and the truth 
can ever be known, then God have mercy upon 
him !” 

With this Gaspard arose, and began to pace the 
floor, while Cinthia set about preparing supper. 

And now, leaving Michael and the Saxon to search 
as they please, we will look in at the palace, and see 
how matters are working there. After Marco Tor- 
quedo had gone, the duke felt greatly relieved, for 
he believed that all suspicion had been turned away 
from himself. 

You see,” he said to his son, “that I was right. 
It is well that we did not harm the dog.” 

“ Aye,” replied Ludovico. “ I see. It is well. I 
think Orlando Vendorme is safely disposed of ; and 


Prepared for More Work. 1 1 7 


now for my marriage. When am I to be master of 
Bergamo ?” 

“ It shall be very soon, my son. And here again, 
let me tell you — I have done a wdse thing. I have 
sent a messenger to the Pope, at Rome, and have 
received from the Pontiff his written orders that the 
hand of Rosabel of Bergamo be bestowed upon 
yourself. Thus, my son, there can be no opposition; 
and if the people of Bergamo should object, the 
Pope’s mandate must silence them.” 

“You have done well. Now the fair heiress of 
Bergamo is mine beyond dispute. You say you have 
the Pope’s permission already ?” 

“ Yes, with his benediction upon the union.” 

“ Then why should we wait ?” 

“ We will not wait,” replied the duke. “ On the 
day after to-morrow the marriage shall take place.” 

“ It is well,” said Ludovico, pressing his hands 
together, and curling his lips with a demoniac 
expression. “ Rosabel will be my wife while her 
outcast paramour is dying. I wish she could know 
it !” 

“ Ah, my son — beware ! Do not let your feelings 
of vengeance run away with your discretion.” 

“ Fear not,” said the prince. “ I am not so foolish 
as that. I think I have vengeance enough already — 
vengeance enough upon Vendorme ; and as for the 
princess, I hope that she will not give me more cause 
for hating her.” 

“ She will be yours, my son, and Bergamo will also 
be yours. The latter will be worth keeping. As to 
the former, you will keep her if you please !” 


The Outcast of Milan, 


ii8 


Ludovico understood his father’s meaning, and the 
fiendish expression with which he answered showed 
that the hint was not foreign to his own thoughts. 

“ I have a firm friend in the pope," pursued Man- 
fred ; “and as soon as I can turn my attention that 
way I shall join him in his effort to throw off the 
German yoke. I tell you our pontiff of Rome must 
have more power. There is no reason why he should 
be forced to bow at the nod of a temporal prince." 

On the evening of the day following this interview, 
the duke sought the apartment of Rosabel, whom he 
found alone. He closed the door behind him, and 
having assured himself that no attendants were pres- 
ent, he opened his business : 

“ My Lady of Bergamo," he said, taking a seat near 
her, “ I have come to inform you of the arrangements 
which have been made for your marriage. The cere- 
mony will be performed to-morrow." 

“ My lord duke," returned the maiden, turning 
deathly pale, and trembling like an aspen, “ this 
must not be. I cannot wed with your son." • 

“ Your opposition will only make it worse for you, 
my child ; for the thing is fixed." 

“ No, no," cried Rosabel ; “ you have not the right. 
You are my guardian ; but you have not the power 
to force me into such an alliance. If you persist — if 
you force the bond upon me — I will appeal to his 
holiness of Rome." 

“ Ah, my fair one, I am ahead of you there. I have 
seen the Pope — or, my messenger has seen him — and 
I have his authority for the marriage. In short, he 
orders that it shall so be." 


Prepared for More Work. 119 


“ O — it is not so !” 

“ Here is the instrument, if you wish to see it." 
And as Manfred thus spoke he drew the parchment 
from his bosom. 

Rosabel took it in her hand, and ran her eye over 
the words that were written. It was a decree from 
the Pope, giving her in marriage to the prince Ludo- 
vico. What escape could there be from this ? By the 
laws of the land all female orphans of patrician blood 
were under the spiritual care of the Pope ; and his 
authority in matters of matrimonial alliance was 
final. Rosabel knew this, and when she had read 
the fatal decree, the parchment fell from her grasp 
and she clasped her hands in eager supplication. 

“ My lord,” she said, “ if you seek the Castle of 
Bergamo for your son, take it. Take all I have of 
wealth — take my lands and my titles, and let me go 
free. O, you cannot wish to bring upon me a suffer- 
ing so great. Give me my liberty, and all the rest is 
yours !" 

“You are wild, my child ; and you sadly misap- 
prehend the intent of my son. He seeks your hand 
as much for your charms of person, as for the wealth 
of your estates." 

“ No, no, it cannot be. Ludovico cannot want a 
wife who will not love him." 

“ Hush, lady. You are speaking too much. You 
are not wise thus to let your tongue run loose. Since 
first you came to Milan it has been established that 
you should be Ludovico’s wife. It is an affair of 
taste, and your wishes in the matter must give way 
to imperious necessity. I see your intent, and I 


120 


The Outcast of Milan, 


know your meaning ; and I may inform you now 
that further opposition will not be tolerated. I 
need not tell over to you the list of evil things you 
have already done ; but I will tell you that we can 
put up with no more. Thus far we have borne your 
insults without bringing upon you the punishment 
richly deserved, but we have borne all. In the time 
to come you will oppose just authority at your peril. 
On the morrow you will give Ludovico your hand. 
I wish to hear no more now.” 

Thus speaking, the duke arose and left the apart- 
ment ; and when the princess was alone, she sank 
down upon her knees, and buried her face in her 
hands. What escape could there be from this ? She 
had expected it — she had awaited the blow for a long 
time ; but she had not gained strength to bear up 
under the terrible affliction. 


CHAPTER XI. 

AN ANGEL ! 

The evening wore on, and at an appointed hour, 
Rosabel’s attendants came to assist her in undress- 
ing ; but she did not wish their presence. She 
wished to be alone. She said she would call them 
when she wanted them. 

And what direction were the thoughts of the 


An Angel, 


121 


princess taking, as she sat there alone, with her 
hands, clasped upon her bosom, and her eyes fixed 
upon the floor ? Listen. She speaks her thoughts 
aloud : 

“ O, it came like a bright vision across my path, 
and was quickly swallowed up in darkness. If it be 
a sin to love one below me in station, then I am a 
sinner, and I cannot repent. Oh, sweet youth, why 
has fate been so cruel ? Noble, brave, and generous 
— thou art worthy the love of a queen. Orlando, 
Orlando, where art thou 1 O, were it not for these 
cruel locks that are placed upon my passage, I 
would seek thee, even though death stood in the 
way ! But, alas ! I am doomed. Ah, thou wilt 
never know how Rosabel of Bergamo loved thee. 
In the years to come, some other fair one will rest 
upon thy bosom ; and while thou blessest her, thou 
wilt forget Rosabel. And where will Rosabel 
be ? O, merciful heaven, save me from the cruel 
fate !” 

She bowed her head, and groaned in agony. The 
thought of Ludovico was appalling, and she shrank 
from it in terror. Quivering at every joint, she 
arose and went to her dressing-case, and took there- 
from a small dagger. Orlando Vendorme made that 
dagger, and gave it to her. She kissed it in memory 
of the giver, and then leaned against the wall, with 
her hand upon her brow. Where were her thoughts 
now ? Why does she look upon the sharp blade so 
eagerly, and clutch the jeweled hilt with such 
nervousness? Why does she move her left hand 


122 The Outcast of Milan, 


so strangely over her bosom ? Why does she pull 
away the silk and the lace, and lay bare the pearly 
skin that rises and falls over her throbbing heart ? 
Does she think of gaining freedom thus from the 
dreadful embrace of Ludovico ? Hark ! What is 
that sound ? A knock upon the door. Quick as 
thought the princess hides her dagger, and then bids 
the applicant enter. 

The door was opened, and a female, muffled in a 
dark mantle, came in. As she closed the door behind 
her she let the mantle fall from her head, thus 
exposing the face of a bright-eyed, fair-featured girl, 
of near Rosabel’s own age. 

“ How,” cried the princess, starting back ; “ is this 
Hippolita ?” 

“ It is my name.” 

“ The minion of Hugh de Castro?” 

“ A child of misfortune, noble lady,” replied the 
visitor, in a low, sad tone. “ Blame me if you will — 
blame me all the earth — but, O, I think Heaven hath 
some pity !” 

“ Pardon, pardon, Hippolita,” exclaimed Rosabel, 
advancing quickly and extending her hand. “ I 
blame no one for misfortune, for, alas ! I am the 
most unfortunate being alive. Now sit thee down, 
and tell me why thou art here.” 

“ We must be alone,” said the girl, casting her 
eyes over the room. 

“ We are alone.'* 

“ But we must not be overheard ; for what I have 
to say no other mortal ear must hear.” 

“ You may speak freely, and without fear.” 


An Angel, 


123 


“ Then, lady,” continued Hippolita, drawing her 
stool nearer to the princess, and speaking in a low 
tone, “listen to my story, and do not upbraid me 
until you have heard me through. Five nights ago 
my master came to me, and wished me to do him a 
service. His will had been my law for so long that 
I thought not of refusing; and when he offered me a 
great reward, I told him I would do anything he 
asked. He showed me a purse of gold, and a neck- 
lace of diamonds, and promised me, when my work 
was done, that these should be mine. I then felt 
that I could do anything for him, and I swore that 
he might trust me. He placed this mantle upon my 
shoulders, and led me to the palace ; and when we 
had reached the porch beneath the old tower, he 
took a torch and conducted me down to the lowest, 
deepest, darkest dungeon. It was a long, dreary 
passage, and he told me I must learn to tread it 
without a light; and to that end he led me to and 
fro until I could grope my way from the porch to the 
pit in the darkness. Then he told me that there 
was a certain person in Milan whom I was to lead to 
that dungeon. He dared not send officers to arrest 
him, but he must be taken to his prison so secretly 
that no soul should know it save those engaged in 
the work. I told my master I would do it if I could. 
He said I could do it very easily if I did it properly. 
The man to be imprisoned was Orlando Vendorme 
— Hold, lady. Hear me to the end. I was 
instructed how to do my work, even to the very 
words I was to speak; and then I entered upon the 
task. That night I hid myself near the armorer’s 


124 The Outcast of Milan. 


shop, but I found no opportunity to speak with Ven- 
dorme alone. On the following night I went again, 
but with no better success. On the third night, 
however, I gained the opportunity I sought. 
Through a small window I saw that the youth was 
at work alone, and I went and rapped upon the door. 
He admitted me, and after gaining from him a 
pledge of secrecy, I delivered the errand with which 
I had been charged — the false, lying errand which 
was to lead him to his doom. I told him that I 
came from the Princess Rosabel, and that she sought 
his help. He grasped at the prospect, and said that 
mortal danger should not deter him from any effort 
the good of the princess might require. Then I told 
him that Rosabel wished to escape the hated bon- 
dage with which she was threatened by union with 
Ludovico, and that she looked to him for aid He 
clasped his hands, and swore that he would give up 
his life for the good of the princess if need be. 
Hold, lady—" 

“No, no," cried Rosabel, pale and quivering, “I 
cannot hold my peace ! O, how could you do it ?" 

“ But, dear lady, will you listen ? Wait till I have 
told you all, and your thoughts shall be turned into 
another channel." 

“ Go on, go on, — O, what perfidy ! Speak 
quickly, and ease my bursting heart if you can !" 

“ I told Vendorme that I had been commissioned 
to conduct him to the princess, and he followed me 
with eagerness. I led him to the palace — led him 
to the porch beneath the old tower — and led him 
I into the dark passage. The way had been prepared, 


An Angel, 


125 


so there were no obstructions. I groped along the 
gloomy course — down the slimy steps — into the very 
bowels of the earth — and finally reached the lowest 
dungeon, where the man was to be shut up. O, 
lady, if you think I was heartless — if you think I did 
this willingly — you are mistaken. When I had 
heard the youth speak — when he breathed forth such 
devotion to one of my sex — when I saw his noble, 
handsome face, and remembered his gallant conduct 
— I felt my resolution grow weak. But I had 
promised to do it, and I dared not disobey. But 
when I had led him to that deep dungeon, where 
the air was chill and damp, and where, perhaps, he 
was to find a grave, my heart sank within me, and I 
grew faint and dizzy. Had I then been mistress of 
my own actions, I should have turned back ; but 
my master was close at hand. Vendorme asked me 
why I trembled so, but I evaded the question by 
telling him a falsehood. I left him there, telling 
him that I was going to seek the princess, and in a 
moment more the solid iron door was shut upon 
him ! 

“ The rest of that night I could not sleep a wink ; 
and all day yesterday, and all last night, and all day 
to-day, I have been suffering more than I can tell. 
This afternoon Ludovico came to see my master, 
and I heard them talking of the marriage which, 
they said, was to come off to-morrow. By and by 
they mentioned the name of Orlando Vendorme, 
and I crept nearer to listen. What I then heard 
froze my blood with horror ! No, no, lady — hold ! 
It is not so bad, listen,” 


126 The Outcast of Milan, 


Hippolita caught the hand of the princess, and 
begged her to sustain herself. 

“ If you love the noble young knight, and would 
save him, you have need of all your strength ; so 
faint not yet.” 

“ Save him ! Save him !” cried Rosabel, starting 
forward and seizing Hippolita by the arm. “ Can I ? 
can I ?” 

“ Listen, lady. I told you I heard them speak of 
Orlando Vendorme. O, it was horrible ; but it may 
not yet be too late. He is shut up in that deep, 
dark, damp, cold dungeon ; and there he is doomed 
to die, without food, and without drink ! This is 
the third night, and he has had no succor yet. I 
heard Ludovico say that he would marry the 
princess while Vendorme was struggling with the 
last touch of death !” 

With a groan so deep and agonizing that even the 
dumb walls seemed startled by its intensity, the 
princess clasped her hands upon her brow, and fixed 
a wild, staring look upon the visitor. 

“ One moment,” struggled Hippolita, putting out 
her hands, “ I will quickly finish. When I heard 
this terrible speech I resolved that, if the thing were 
necessary, my life should be given to the undoing of 
the wrong I had done. I have obtained the keys of 
all the doors between us and the fearful dungeon, 
except those which belong to your own apartments, 
and I have come to you, believing that you would 
help me in the work of salvation. If you can unlock 
the way to the passage that communicates with the 
rear porch, I can do the rest. My master had the 


An Angel, 


12 j 


key to the dungeon, and I know where to find it. 
O, lady, can you help me? I would have gone 
alone, and set the prisoner free, but if he escapes he 
must come this way. He cannot pass the guard in 
the rear court." 

Rosabel moved forward a step, and caught the 
messenger by the hand. 

“ Hippolita," she said, in a quick, sharp whisper, 
“ can I trust you ?" 

“ Dear lady," returned the bond-woman, “ I am 
trusting you with my life." 

“ But," pursued the princess, tightening her grasp, 
and quivering at every joint, “ if I should flee — if 
success attends us, and I should flee with the knight 
— should flee from the horrible fate the tyrant of 
Milan has in store for me — would you be true to me 
then ?" 

Ere I answer you I have a favor to ask," replied 
Hippolita, sinking down upon her knees. “ Let me 
go with you, and I will be as true to you as the sun 
is true to the day, and I will lay down my life for 
you if necessary." 

“ So shall it be," said Rosabel, lifting the girl to 
her feet. “ And now," she added, still tremulous 
with excitement, “let us hasten upon our mission. 
O, there is no time to be lost. Every moment may 
be as precious as a life." 

“ We must take some cordial with us," suggested 
Hippolita, who had been considering upon the steps 
necessary to be taken. 

“ Certainly," replied the princess. “And is there 
anything else ?" 


128 The Outcast of Milan. 


I think of nothing.” 

Rosabel of Bergamo could not have taken a sister 
more completely into her confidence than she had 
taken the girl who now bore her company. The 
release of the prisoner was an object with them both ; 
but that was not all. If Rosabel wished to flee from 
the power of the duke, Hippolita was no less anxious 
to flee from the wrath of her master, so in this they 
had a common cause. When the princess had pre- 
pared herself for the mission, she turned and took 
her companion by the hand : 

“ Hippolita, henceforth our fates are cast together. 
If we save the knight I will forget and forgive the 
past, and thou shalt find a home with me while we 
both live.” 

“ And I,” replied the girl, with deep, sincere emo- 
tion, “ will serve you most faithfully.” 

“ Now let us go.” 

In the rear of the palace was a small garden, sur- 
rounded by a high wall, to which the princess had 
access at all times ; and in going thither it was neces- 
sary to enter the long passage through which the 
knight had been conducted. Rosabel had the keys 
of the doors that lay between her apartment and the 
garden, and when she had found them, the two 
adventurers started on their mission. With cautious 
steps they moved on, the princess going in advance 
with the keys, while Hippolita followed with a small 
lantern, which she could conceal beneath her mantle 
when she pleased. Thus they reached the vaulted 
passage, and here they exchanged positions, for now 


An Angel, 


i2g 


Hippolita had the keys, and knew how to lead the 
way. 

And how was it in the dungeon ? 

Cold, damp and drear ! With the last effort of 
nature Vendorme struggled to his feet, and stag- 
gered against the wall. He pressed his swollen 
tongue upon the cold stone, but the sense of relief 
was gone. A little while he stood there, and then 
he reached once more for his sword. Twice he had 
found the point, and twice he had put it away, but 
hope was gone, and his poor life was going with it. 
He had placed the hilt upon the floor of his cell, 
and was trying to balance himself so as to aim the 
point at his heart, when his ear was struck by the 
sound of a hand upon the bars of his door. He 
listened a moment, and when he was assured that 
the door was being opened’ he let his sword fall and 
started forward. But he had not the strength to 
support himself, and when he had staggered a few 
steps he sank down upon the hard, cold floor. He 
knew that the door was opened, and that the light was 
shining in upon him, and presently some one knelt 
by his side, and called his name. 

What sound was that ? What was it that thrilled 
this soul with such awakening power ? What was 
it that sent such a throb to his heart, and startled 
his nerves to sense and feeling? 

“ Orlando ! Orlando !” 

He started up, and supported himself on his 
elbow. 

“ Who speaks to me ?” 

“ Orlando ! Orlando ! O, can you not arise ? Do 


130 


The Outcast of Milan, 


you not know me ? I am come to save you ! O, in 
Heaven’s name, faint not yet ! Support yourself 
yet awhile longer, and all may be well with us both! 
It is Rosabal who speaks !” 

“ Rosabel I Rosabel !” gasped the prisoner, put- 
ting forth his hands. 

She guided them to her shoulders — she wound 
her own arms about him, and thus lifted him to. a 
sitting posture. 

‘•He is famishing for the want of drink,” said 
Hippolita, who had just mustered strength enough 
to speak; for the sight of the terrible work she had 
helped to do had shocked her so that for awhile 
she had been faint and dizzy. But a sense of the 
necessity that was upon her, and the atonement she 
was to make, gave her new strength, and forthwith 
she applied herself to the assistance of the sufferer. 
She produced the wine she had brought with her, 
in a silver flask, and when the stopple had been 
removed she placed it to the knight’s lips. Eagerly 
did he swallow the welcome draught, and as the 
warmth spread through his system, he felt new 
strength. 

“More — more of the wine,” he gasped, as the 
flask was removed from his lips. 

“ In a little while,” returned the princess. “ It 
may be dangerous to drink too much now.” 

“ Ha ! that voice ! No, no — it is a dream !” And 
he swept his hand across his eyes. 

“ It is not a dream, Orlando. It is Rosabel. She 
is here to save you. O, can you not go with her ?” 

The youth gazed up, and when, finally, he saw 


An Angel, 


131 


the sweet face of the angel, and could distinguish 
the soul-cherished features, he sank forward, with 
his head upon her bosom. 

“It is,” he murmured. “It is Rosabel. Am I to 
be taken hence ?” 

“ Yes, I have come to take you. Can you walk ?” 

With an effort he rose to his feet, and as he did so 
his gaze rested upon Hippolita. 

“Oh,” he cried, as soon as he recognized her, 
“then you did not deceive me ! You were not the 
cruel one I had feared. You did not bring me here, 
knowingly, to my death.” 

The poor girl knew not what to say, but Rosabel 
came quickly to her assistance : 

“This girl, Orlando, has come with me to help you. 
S! e it was who informed me where you were, and to 
her I am indebted for this privilege.” 

“O, God be praised !” the sufferer ejaculated, 
fervently. “I had almost cursed her in the belief 
that she had brought me here to die. But she will 
forgive me for the thought. I have suffered enough. 
I am thirsty. May I not have more wine now ?” 

The flask was now given into his hands, and he 
drained it to the bottom. In a little while he was 
able to stand without assistance, and his step was 
safe. It was not the wine alone that had given him 
such invigoration. Far, far from it. As he turned 
and cast his eyes once more upon the princess, he 
falteringly said : 

“If this is true — if you have come to save me — I 
will find the strength to support myself. Whither 
wilt thou lead me ?” 


132 


The Outcast of Milan, 


“First,” replied Rosabel, “we must lead you to a 
purer air than this. Let us find a better resting 
place, and then we will consider. You can lean upon 
me.” 

“Upon you, lady ?” 

“Yes — fear not — I am strong enough. Hippolita 
shall go on in advance, and we will follow.” 

“Upon you ! And not a dream ! O, my soul !” 

And she took his arm and led him forth from the 
dreadful dungeon — led him up from those noisome 
depths — led him as something tender and precious 
in the sight of her love. 


CHAPTER XII. 

WHITHER NOW ? 

The trembling, anxious party reached the apart- 
ments of the princess without meeting opposition ; 
and when once there several questions arose. First, 
— how fared it with the knight, — could he sustain 
himself through further trial ? He was very weak, 
and the last ascent had been made with the utmost 
difficulty ; but he said he only needed nourishment. 
Rosabel quickly brought him food and drink, the 
very sight of which seemed to give him vigor. And 
while he was eating, the second question arose : 
How could they leave the palace ? 

“I think,” said Hippolita, “that I can open a way. 


Whither Now f 


133 


I have with me all my master’s keys ; and I know 
that he has a private entrance to the palace.” 

“Certainly he has,” returned the princess. 

“Yes,” pursued the other, “for I have come in with 
him. If I were in the audience-chamber, I could 
easily find my way out.” 

“Then,” cried Rosabel, in a tone of relief, “all may 
be well. I cannot reach the audience-chamber; but 
1 can gain access to the passage which must be 
threaded in passing out thence by de Castro’s private 
way, as it crosses the path to my bath.” 

As soon as this point was settled, Rosabel betook 
herself to her closet, where she collected her valua- 
ble jewels, together with quite a sum of money, and 
also took a mantle of sufficient size to cover her head 
and shoulders. When she returned to the chamber, 
she found that Vendorme had so far recovered that 
he was able to walk to and fro without difficulty. 

The nourishment he had taken, and the invigora- 
tion of the generous wine, had given tone to his 
strength, while the thought of escape started the 
circulation in his system, sending vigor to every part. 
He had taken his sword, which Hippolita had 
brought from the dungeon, and as he let it fall into 
its scabbard, he said to the princess: 

“ Now, fair lady, I am strong enough to proceed. 
If I might judge from your preparation, you mean 
to accompany me ?” 

“Yes, sir,” replied Rosabel. She hesitated a 
moment, and then added — “ But before I move let 
me undeceive you upon one point. I did not draw 
you into the danger from which you are now trying 


134 


The O tit cast of Milan, 


to escape. I had no hand or part in bringing you 
to the palace. The message which drew you hither 
was false. I did not send it. Your deadly enemies 
framed it, and obtained its conveyance. If there are 
further explanations to be made, I can make them at 
some future time, if I have opportunity. I have 
told this to you so that you should not imagine that 
I led you into such great danger.” 

“ Hold a moment, lady,” said the knight, putting 
forth his hand as though he would warn her back ; 
“ if you did not, after all, seek for my presence, let 
us part here. You must not place yourself in fur- 
ther peril for me. I would rather die where I am 
than owe my life to your misery.” 

You misunderstand me, sir,” said the princess, 
advancing, and placing her hand upon his arm. “ I 
have as much to fear and dread beneath the roof of 
this palace as you have ; and so I have as much 
need to flee. Thus far let the matter be understood 
between us. And now, are you strong enough to 
proceed ?” 

“ Yes, lady.” 

With cautious steps Rosabel led the way from her 
chamber, and reached the passage, to which allusion 
had been made, without difficulty. It now became 
Hippolita's duty to lead, so she took the lantern and 
went ahead, while the princess walked by the side of 
the knight. She took his hand — took it as though 
she would assist him, — and the thought that he had 
been weak, and was leaning upon her for support, 
gave her strength and power. His hand trembled 


Whither Now ? 


135 


as it rested in her grasp, and she asked him if he 
would bear more weight upon her. 

“ I am strong enough/’ she said ; “ and you 
tremble as though you were weak. Lean upon me.” 

“ Strong ! Weak ! — Lean upon you ?” repeated 
Vendorme, gazing down upon the lovely face 
which was but dimly revealed by the struggling 
beams from Hippolita’s lantern. “ Ah, lady, t am 
not weak now. I am stronger than you think. 
Were the tyrant to meet us at this moment I believe 
my sword would fly from its scabbard as quickly as 
ever ; and this arm should wield it, too. If I trem- 
bled, it was not from weakness.” 

Rosabel bowed her head, and spoke no more ; 
but she did not yet let go the hand she held. 

Meanwhile, Hippolita led the way in safety, opening 
the doors as they interposed, and being careful to close 
them behind her, until she reached the outer door of 
all, which opened into a side court, where a sentinel 
was generally posted. Here she stopped, and con- 
ferred with the princess. 

“ If we can pass from this door,” she said, we 
are free from the palace. It opens into a small 
court, where there is a large gate and a wicket, and 
to the wicket I have a key. Sometimes there is a 
sentinel posted here.” 

“ But not always ?” said Rosabel, interrogatively. 

“ I believe he is very seldom absent. Hark !” 
And thus speaking, Hippolita put her ear to the 
door and listened. 

“Yes,” she added, “he is here. I can hear his 
step very plainly.” 


136 The Outcast of 


“ What now ?” cried the princess, in alarm. 
“ Must we give up after gaining thus much ?” 

*■ Wait,” said Vendorme, moving a step nearer to 
the door, and drawing himself up as though he 
would try his muscles. “This is the court on the 
side of the Olona ?” 

“Yes,” replied Hippolita. 

“ And you have the key to the wicket ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“Then our course is clear. Do you open the 
door, and let me pass out first. I will meet the 
guard, and find some way to overcome him. Fear 
not, lady — I know what I do.” 

“ But — sir — you are weak,” urged Rosabel. 

“ Upon my life, lady — aye, upon more than that — 
upon my responsibility for your safety — I know 
what I do. Let us waste no time. There is but a 
single sentinel, and he must be passed. Let your 
attendant conceal her lantern, and open the door ; 
and do you remain behind until I bid you come.” 

Rosabel gave her consent, and the door was 
opened. Our hero drew his sword, and stepped 
forth into the open air, meeting the sentinel but a 
few feet distant. The stars were shining brightly, 
and the knight saw clearly the work that lay before 
him. The guardsmen was an ordinary-sized fellow, 
armed with a spear, who, when he beheld a man 
advancing from the open door, demanded to know 
who came there. 

“ Who should come this way but one who has the 
right?” returned our hero. “Listen, fellow, for I 
-have a word to say to thee.” 


Whither Now ? 


T37 


Now in all probability that sentinel had never 
seen a man come from that door who had no busi- 
ness to pass ; so thinking of no harm, he rested the 
pole of his lance upon the pavement, and listened to 
what was to be said. 

Do you know me ?” asked the youth, taking a 
step forward. 

“ Eh !” uttered the soldier, staring into the ques- 
tioner’s face. “ Why, it is the knight of the Silver 
Cross ! It is Vendorme ! Bless me, sir, where did 
you come from ? There has been a great noise 
about you.” 

Orlando was very sure that none of the guard 
had been entrusted with the secret of his imprison- 
ment, so he ventured boldly upon his reply : 

“ I came into the palace by one way, and I am 
going out by another ; but I am not alone. I have 
two companions with me. We have come from a 
distant apartment, and every door is locked behind 
us, leaving no trace of our passage. This door we 
will also lock, so that, when we are gone, you alone 
will know how we went. I tell you this so that you 
may be prepared to shield yourself should you be 
questioned touching your knowledge of our depar- 
ture. You know me, and you know what my pledge 
is worth.” 

As our hero thus spoke he grasped the fellow’s 
spear, and wrenched it from him, at the same time 
raising the point of his sword. 

“ Beware ! You are safe if you obey me. Not a 
soul in the palace will know how I have gone if you 
hold your peace. I am fleeing for my life, and you 


138 


The Outcast of Milan, 


should know how to hold me. Stand back and let 
my companions pass, and all shall be well ; but, if 
you give one note of alarm, it shall be your last 
note of life !” 

It was very easy to see that the guardsman had 
no thought of entering into a physical conflict with 
the knight who had overcome all opponents in the 
list, and who had also slain the giant Matteo in a 
hand-to-hand encounter. The very presence of the 
redoubtable champion overcame him with awe. 
Still he had an idea to his own safety. 

“You cannot pass further,” he said, without any 
effort to regain his spear. “ The gate is locked, and 
the captain has the key.” 

“ We have the key to the wicket,” returned Ven- 
dorme, “ and can easily make our way out. Now 
answer me — shall we pass ?” 

“You will not betray me ?” 

“ Of course not. I tell you once again, we have 
left no trace behind us, and it can never be known 
which way we came, unless you confess it. Come — 
speak.” 

“ Give me back my spear, and go.” 

“ I will give it to you when we have passed the 
wicket. But, remember this : If you give an alarm, 
be it so much as a sigh, my passage shall be over 
your dead body And yet I would not harm you if 
I can help it. Come — we have no time to spare.” 

The sentinel moved back against the wall, and 
folded his arms upon his breast. 

“ I trust in your knightly word,” he said, “ that 


Whither Now ? 


139 


you will give me back my spear before you leave 
me. 

You shall have it.” 

And when he had thus spoken Vendorme turned 
to the door, and bade his companions come forth. 
They came, so closely muffled in their mantles that 
their features could not be seen, and Hippolita 
advanced directly to the wicket and unlocked it. 
She passed out first, and when Rosabel had gone, 
Orlando placed the spear against the wall and fol- 
lowed them, the sentinel making no movement to 
oppose them. When the wicket had been relocked 
the party stood in a narrow street, with no present 
bar to their progress. 

Whither now ? 

“ I must get some sign of intelligence to Michael 
Totilla,” said Orlando ; “ and furthermore, I must 
find some bit of rest. I am glad the guardsman did 
not try my arm, for I much fear that my strength 
would have failed me in the event. Still, lady, I am 
at your service.” 

“ Let me speak,” interposed Hippolita ; and she 
presented her claim to be heard the more readily 
because she saw that neither the knight nor the prin- 
cess were calm enough for deep reason. “ Of one 
thing we may be sure : Our flight cannot be known 
till morning ; so we have some hours yet of security 
before us. I must return to my master’s house, and 
carry back these keys ; and in the meantime you 
can proceed to the armorer’s shop, where I will meet 
you. I think the keys had better be returned ; and 
I know that I can do it without danger. In less 


140 The Outcast of Milan, 

than half an hour we will all be at the armorer’s 
where we shall have Michael to assist us.” 

As no better plan than this could be thought of, 
Orlando and Rosabel at once agreed to it, and so 
the parties proceeded in their respective courses. 

“ We must not remain long at the armorer’s,” said 
the princess, as she and her companion walked on. 

We will not,” returned Vendorme. “ Do not 
fear on my account, lady. I am not so weak, even 
now, as I was a short time since. The excitement of 
the moment, when I met the guard, made a heavy 
draft upon my strength of nerve. If you wish to 
leave Milan, be sure I am able to go with you.” 

“ We must be clear of Milan before daylight,” 
said Rosabel. “ Oh, I should dread the consequences 
of being within these walls on the morrow.” 

“ We will not be here. We both have reason to 
flee from the tyrant’s cruel wrath.” 

When they reached the armorer’s house Orlando 
knocked upon the door, and ere long the voice of 
Michael was heard within, demanding who was there. 
The applicant had but to speak, and in a moment 
more the door was thrown open, and his hand was 
grasped by the honest armorer. 

“My eyes and ears do not deceive me !” Michael 
cried, holding his young master in a close embrace. 

“ No, my good Michael ; I am here safe and sound, 
though somewhat weak ; and I have a companion, 
too, who claims your assistance.” 

“Welcome, all friends of Vendorme, to all that 
Michael Totilla has. And now come to our board.” 

When they reached the dwelling-room they found 


Whither Now f 


141 


Cinthia already there, she having arisen at the first 
alarm ; and when she had embraced Orlando, she 
turned to his companion, who had not yet thrown 
the mantle from her head. 

“ Lady, thou art welcome. How ! The princess ?" 

“ Yes, good wife,” replied the fugitive, letting her 
mantle fall. “ Rosabel of Bergamo seeks your 
friendship and your aid.” 

Cinthia was considerably startled by this dis- 
covery ; but she quickly regained her composure, 
and gave to the princess a cheerful promise of love 
and fidelity. 

“ Ha,” cried Michael, ** here is another friend. 
Perhaps you recognize him, my master?” 

Orlando turned as he heard a door open behind 
him, and beheld a man approaching. 

“ I think I should know that face,” he said. “Yes, 
yes, — it is our esquire of Saxony — good Gaspard. 
Am I not right ?” 

“Of a verity you are,” replied Gaspard, extending 
his hand. “ Saint Andrew ! how strange it is ! The 
bird returns as we were about to sit down in 
despair.” 

“ Gaspard has been helping me in my search after 
you,” explained Michael. “ Ha ! there is another 
knock at the door !” 

“ Be not alarmed,” said Orlando, as he noticed'that 
Cinthia started and turned pale. “ I think it is a 
friend — one who led this lady and myself in safety 
from prison.” 

It was Hippolita who demanded admittance ; and 
>vhen she had been seated with the rest, Orlando 


142 


T^^e Outcast of Milan, 


commenced the explanation which was anxiously 
waited for. He told his own story — how he had 
been led away by the false errand — (he did not yet 
know that Hippolita had acted against him know- 
ingly) — how he had been cast into the dungeon — 
how the prince had come to him, and revealed to 
him the horrible fate to which he had been doomed — 
how he had suffered almost unto death — and how, at 
the last moment, the saving angel came and set him 
free. 

During this recital Cinthia trembled and paled 
with horror, while Michael and Gaspard clenched 
their hands and ground their teeth. 

As for the princess,” pursued our hero, after he 
had answered several questions from Gaspard, she 
can tell you what she pleases.” 

“ I have little to tell,” said Rosabel ; “ and, if I had, 
time would not permit the recital. It is enough that 
I hope to escape from a doom worse to me than death. 
I think you understand me.” 

They did understand her; and. they showed no 
disposition to trouble her with questions. She 
simply added, by way of doing justice to her attend- 
ant, that to Hippolita both she and the knight owed 
their escape from the palace. 

And now the question was — how should the fugi- 
tives get out from the city ? Orlando felt strong 
enough to move on, and he believed that the fresh 
air of the country would help to invigorate him. 

“ It is all very simple,” said Gaspard. “ If you do 
not object I shall bear you company for a while ; 
that is, if you turn your steps to the north.” 


Whither Now f 


H3 

“ I mean to go that way,” replied Vendorme, and 
I shall accept your company thankfully.” 

“ Then there will be no trouble. I have a right to 
pass from the city at any time, with my attendants, 
and the guard, if they have had no especial orders 
to the contrary, will not question me.” 

Michael was anxious to accompany his master ; 
but his proposition was quickly ruled down, and he 
finally consented to remain behind ; and as soon as 
this understanding had been arrived at, he started 
out with Gaspard to procure horses. Orlando had 
two horses in a neighboring stall, which Michael 
obtained, while the Saxon soon brought two of his 
own. The animals were led into the court, where 
the party were presently in the saddle. 

“ I shall hear from you,” said Michael, holding his 
master by the hand. “ You will find some way to 
let me know of your fate ?” 

“ Fear not, my good friend,” replied our hero. 

While I live I will not forget you.” 

He then kissed Cinthia’s hand, and when the latter 
had bade an affectionate adieu to Rosabel and Hip- 
polita, the party rode out from the yard. At the 
gate of the Saveso the guard wished to know who 
passed at that hour. 

“ Gaspard of Saxony and his friends !” was the ^ 
reply. 

And the reply was accepted, and the party allowed 
to pass without further question. 

“ How many hours to sunrise ?” asked Orlando, 
when they had cleared the city. 

Not more than three,” replied Gaspard. 


144 


The Outcast of Milan, 


“ Then we have need of haste." 

“ Do you fear ?" 

“ Fear ! — I ? No, sir — not beyond the walls of 
Milan. But — for this fair lady — I would — " 

“ I understand," said the Saxon. 

O," cried Rosabel, as she grasped and t ghtened 
her rein, “ let me ride on even unto death, rather 
than be taken back to Milan !" 

‘‘ Then on we go !" said Gaspard. “ I will lead 
the way until the sun is up." 

The horses opened into a striding gallop, and the 
party sped swiftly on away from the sleeping city. 

And whither did they go ? What should be the 
end ? 

Orlando Vendorme asked himself these questions 
as he gazed upon the face of the beautiful being who 
rode beside him, but he knew not what to answer, 
A strange thought — almost a hope — came tremblingly 
up from his heart, but he dared not give it place in 
his reason. 

He would save Rosabel of Bergamo if he could. 
Why need he think further ? 



CHAPTER XIIL 

NEED OF REST. 

The duke of Milan was astir earlier than usual, 
and by eight o’clock the prince and Hugh de Castro 
were with him in his closet. 

“This day,” cried Ludovico, “shall see me amply 
avenged. Upon Rosabel of Bergamo I shall lay my 
hand with authority ; and upon that dog of an out- 
cast I will see the seal of death fixed !” 

“Aye,” responded the duke, “we can have no 
further trouble. I did fear somewhat that the prin- 
cess might so far oppose us as to have recourse to 
her single right of refusing a husband. This would 
have been a difficult matter for us ; but the edict of 
his holiness has removed that obstacle, and this 
lady’s consent is not material. But we will not have 
a large assembly at the marriage ceremony. Only 
those whom we can trust shall be there. On the 
morrow the marriage shall be published, and cele- 
brated throughout the city.” 

“ How is the maiden ?” asked de Castro. 

“ As stubborn as ever,” replied the duke. 

“ Not a very pleasant wife,” the captain remarked, 
turning upon the prince a light smile. 



146 


The Outcast of Milan, 


“It makes little difference to me,” said Ludovico, 
with an ugly twist of the mouth. “ I become master 
of the castle of Bergamo ; and, if my wit does not 
leave me. I’ll show the lady Rosabel that I can mas- 
ter a refractory woman.” 

“ I pity her, if she forces you to the test,” returned 
de Castro, with a significant nod. 

“ So do I,” rejoined the prince. “ Still,” he added, 
with considerable self-assurance, “ I do not fancy 
that she will put me to much trouble. Her proud 
spirit will soon break down when she finds that 
every turn will only draw more tightly the bonds of 
her own suffering. 

“ If her spirit doesn’t break,” suggested Manfred, 
with one of his fiendish leers, “ let her keep the 
strain up till her heart breaks. It will be as well in 
the end.” 

Hugh de Castro, villain as he was, could not hear 
this without a shudder. He joined freely in the cru- 
sade against Vendorme, for the youthful knight had 
wounded his pride ; but he had no heart for exult- 
ing in the misery of the beautiful princess. Still he 
was willing to lend his aid to the accomplishment of 
the marriage, because whatever added to the power 
of the prince enhanced the value of his own station. 

“And now,” said Ludovico, “ when shall the cere- 
mony take place ?” 

“It shall be as soon as the hour of audience is 
passed,” replied the duke. 

“ Good.” Then turning to the captain the prince 
asked — “ Have you the keys to the dungeon ?” 

“ Yes, my lord, I brought them with me.” 


Need of Rest, 


147 




“Then I will go down and see if Vendorme is 
dead. I would like to know.” 

“ I had thought of that very thing myself,” said 
the duke. “ Do you go and visit the dungeon, and 
in the meantime I will send a messenger to the 
princess.” 

Ludovico took the keys from de Castro, and when 
he had gone the duke sent his page to inform Rosa- 
bel that he would be with her as soon as he had 
given audience to his officers. 

The audience on that day was short, and when 
Manfred returned to his closet he found his page 
waiting for him. 

“Will the princess be ready ?” 

“ The princess is not in her apartments, my lord.” 

“ Ha — where is she ?” 

“ She is not to be found. Her attendants have 
searched everywhere, but without discovering the 
least trace of her.” 

“ She has not left the palace ?” 

“ It is feared so, my lord. Her jewels are gone ; 
and moreover, her bed was not pressed during the 
night.” 

“ It cannot be !” cried Manfred. “ She could not 
have escaped from the palace. If she is not in her 
own apartments, she must be concealed somewhere 
in the adjacent passes. Oho — she cannot escape so 
easily. She is lurking in some dark corner. Ha — 
here comes the prince.” 

“ Aye,” exclaimed Ludovico, quivering from head 
to foot, as he strode in and stood before his father, 


148 


The Outcast of Milan, 


“ it is the prince, in a cloud ! Let your page with- 
draw.” 

The boy left the apartment, and the duke then 
turned towards his son, with an explanatory 
gesture. 

“ I know what you mean, Ludovico ; but it will 
not avail. I have heard of her absence.” 

“ Of her absence ! Of whom do you speak ?” 

“ Why — of the princess, to be sure.” 

“ Is she gone 

“ She is missing from her chamber.” 

“ O, holy angels guard us !” ejaculated the prince, 
wringing his hands as though he knew not what 
else to do. “ I spoke not of the princess — I had heard 
nothing of her. I have been to the deep, dark dun- 
geon, where our old enemies died, and where we left 
Orlando Vendorme.” 

“ And did you find him dead ?” 

“ Dead ? No ! I found him not at all ! The place 
was empty. Not even a rat was there to show me 
signs of life !” 

” Holy Saints ! No, no, Ludovico. You trifle 
with me !” 

“ Trifle with you ! I am not in a mood for trifling ! 
Vendorme is gone !” 

“ Merciful heavens !” gasped the duke, “ and 
Rosabel is gone, too ! Are we both crazy ! Are 
we blind J Do our senses play us false ! No, no, — 
Vendorme could not have escaped. He could not 
force those ponderous doors.” 

“ Not a door had been forced,” 


returned the 


Need of Rest, 


149 


prince, “ nor had a lock been harmed. I found every 
bolt in its place, and every door fast.” 

“ Then some evil spirit is in arms against us ! 
Ha — here comes my captain. How now, de Cas- 
tro ? You look troubled. What have you found 
amiss ?” 

“Only this, my lord,” replied de Castro, closing 
the door behind him, and advancing into the room 
— “ I think my fair minion, she who conveyed 
Vendorme to the dungeon, hath taken a sudden 
leave of me.” 

“ What — was it Hippolita ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ And is she gone ?” 

“ I think so.” 

“ When ? When ?” 

“ Sometime in the night.” 

“ Then,” cried the duke, “ I think we begin to 
have light. Were the keys of the passage leading to 
our dungeon where she could get them V 

“ How, my lord ? Has — ” 

“ Don’t stop to question me, but answer. Were 
those keys where she could get them ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“Then, de Castro, your wench hath done 'more 
mischief than an army could have done. Our pris- 
oner is gone from the dungeon, and Rosabel of 
Bergamo hath gone with him !” 

De Castro stood like one upon whom had burst a 
thunderbolt.” 

“ Gone !” he repeated, trembling when he spoke. 
“ The outcast gone !” 


150 The Outcast of Milan. 


“ Aye — and the princess, too," returned the duke, 
his tones mingling with the grating of his teeth. 

De Castro, if you do not find the runaways, I’ll 
hold you accountable ! I thought you could trust 
your wench." 

“ So I thought, my lord. Indeed, I did the best 
I could. Hippolita never deceived me before. But 
— but — " 

“ Well — but what !" 

“ But, my lord, this work must have been too 
much for her. Her weak, foolish heart was not 
proof against sympathy for the gallant knight." 

“ I think," said Ludovico, coming forward as he 
spoke, “ that we had better cease our arguments, 
and start in pursuit. I am well convinced that de 
Castro hath done us no wrong willingly. If he has 
erred, let him make it good to us by finding that 
which is lost." 

“I meant no accusation against our captain," said 
the duke; “and yet I have reason for offence. How- 
ever, let us find the fugitives first, and then we may 
look into the other matters if we please. And de 
Castro, I shall not abate from my proposition. You 
must bring them back." 

“ I will do my best, my lord — be assured of that." 

“ The first look shall be made at the house of the 
armorer," said Ludovico. “ We must have Michael 
Totillaupon the rack; for I am sure that Vendorme 
would not have left the city without communicating 
with him." 

De Castro shook his head. 

“ We must not trouble the armorer at present 


Need of Rest, 




We cannot approach him without committing our- 
selves; and we are not prepared to do that. If we 
seek him and make inquiries touching Vendorme, 
we but expose our part against the knight.” 

“ The captain is right,” said Manfred. ‘‘For our 
own safety we must move cautiously. Master 
Totilla, if I know him at all, is not the man to give 
up his friend ; so we should gain nothing from 
him. We’ll leave him until another time, and make 
our first inquiries of the palace guard, and then 
question the sentinels at the city gates.” 

Ludovico saw the force of the reasoning, and he 
urged his point no further. If, upon thorough 
search, the fugitives were not to be found in the 
palace, he was willing that de Castro should con- 
tinue the work as he pleased. 

As it was very evident that the three missing ones 
had gone together, inquiry was only made for the 
princess and Hippolita; and very soon it was 
decided that they were not within the palace walls. 

Where next ? De Castro knew, if Hippolita had 
led the way with his keys, that she must have gone 
out by his own private passage; so he called upon 
the sentinels who had been posted in the side court 
during the night. One of those men trembled, and 
his tongue faltered, when he met the gaze of his 
chief. The captain believed he had found the delin- 
quent, so he sent the others away, for the purpose 
of questioning this fellow alone. 

“ Hark ye, Bernardo,” said de Castro, “ I know 
what has transpired; and now if you will answer 
me truly, you shall be safe; but if you attempt to 


152 


The Outcast of Milan, 


deceive me, your head must fall. Did not some 
persons pass your post last night ?” 

The man trembled violently, but he could not 
escape the answer. 

“Yes, sir,” he replied, sinking upon his knees, 
“ but I could not help it.” 

“ Could not help it ! What a thing of wood are 
you to be a soldier ! Up, and answer me. Stand 
up, — I have promised you your life if you answer 
truly. How was it T* 

“ Thus it was,” said the guardsman : “ Sir 

Orlando Vendorme made his appearance from the 
palace ; and as he came out so honestly, and was so 
famed a gentleman, I did not oppose him with force. 
By a wicked manoeuver he got my spear away from 
me ; and, with his dreadful sword at my bosom, 
dictated his own terms. He had two companions 
with him — two women — and he had the key to the 
wicket — and I let them pass out.” 

“ Did you see the faces of those women T* 

“ No, sir. They were covered with tneir 
mantles.” 

“ Bernardo, you should have died at your post 
rather than allow such a thing.” 

“ I thought of that, sir ; but my life was sweet, 
and the knight would have passed all the same.” 

“ Well, well, — I have not time to upbraid you 
further, but I have an offer to make. These persons 
must be found, and you are to help in the work. 
Your success will decide what more shall be done 
for you. Not a word of this to any living soul ; but 
hold yourself in readiness to answer my call.” 


Need of Rest, 


153 


The poor soldier was glad enough to get off upon 
any terms, and he promised that he would do all he 
could towards capturing the fugitive knight. 

It was near noon when de Castro came to make 
his report to the duke. 

“ My lord," he said, “ I have gained the clue ; and 
I find another party mixed up in the matter. At 
the gate of the Saveso, some two hours past mid- 
night, Gaspard of Saxony passed out, accompanied 
by one man and two females. Of course these must 
have been our fugitives," 

“ Gaspard of Saxony !" muttered the duke, with a 
nervous quiver of the lip. “ I had my doubts of 
that fellovr when he was here. What is he 1 Who 
is he ?" 

“ He professes to be a servant of that young 
Count of Hartburg," replied de Castro. 

“ Yes — I know that ; but O, I wish I knew what is 
now hidden from me. Who, who is Theodore of 
Hartburg ?" 

“ Ah, my lord, you puzzle me beyond my power. 
But this is not the time for solving that question. 
It is very certain that Gaspard has gone off with our 
fugitives, and he must be found if possible. If we 
find his course, we shall find the course of the 
others." 

“ Right, de Castro. Into your hands I give the 
work. Bring back Rosabel of Bergamo ; bring 
back Orlando Vendorme or, if you have the 
opportunity, kill him as you find him ; and as for 
your girl, you may do as you please." 

“ I shall be quickly on the road, my lord, with half 


154 


The Outcast of Milan. 


a score of my best men ; and if I do not fall behind 
my expectations, I shall bring the missing ones back 
to you.” 

4: * ♦ * * * * 

As the sun arose Gaspard and his party arrived 
within sight of a small village on the river Adda, 
distant some ten leagues from Milan. They had 
stopped upon the brow of a gentle eminence, where 
a soft breeze, laden with the balm of flower and 
shrubs, gave them sweet salute. Before them, and 
stretching away to the left, lay a billowy succession 
of fields and small vineyards, owned and cultivated 
by the inhabitants of the village ; while upon the 
right flowed the river, beyond which a spur of the 
Rhetian Alps reared aloft their rocky peaks. 

How is it ?” asked Gaspard, turning to our hero. 

“ If there is safe shelter here,” replied Orlando, 
“ I cannot go further now. I am very weak, and 
must have rest. Still, there must be no danger. 
Rather than run a serious risk, I would keep on till 
noon.” 

“ No, no,” said Rosabel, who had been watching 
the knight for some time, “you cannot keep on. It 
would be madness to think of it. It is a miracle 
that you have held your saddle so long.” 

“ There is no need of going further,” rejoined the 
Saxon. “ I am acquainted in this hamlet, and if 
there is shelter to be found, they will find it for me. 
But we will not all enter at present. I have no 
doubt that our enemies will come this way ; and if 
they do, they must not find our tracks. Do you 


Need of Rest. 


155 


remain here while I go forward and make inquiries. 
I will not be gone long.” 

Thus speaking, Gaspard rode away ; and when 
he was gone Orlando slid from his saddle and lay 
down upon the grass. He was very weak, and he 
felt much pain in his head and limbs. He had 
endured much for one in his situation. Only a few 
short hours before he had been at the very gate 
of death from starvation, and all this labor he had 
endured upon the resuscitating power of a little 
bread and wine. Rosabel was quickly by his side, 
and as she brushed back his hair with her hand, she 
asked him if she could help him. He gazed up into 
her face, and, forgetful of his pain, he replied : 

“ I am helped already. Thy sympathy, lady, is a 
cordial that makes my soul strong. But you need 
not fear. I am only weak. Rest will cure me.” 

When Gaspard came back he was accompanied by 
a man whom he introduced as his friend Marco Paz- 
zoli. The new-comer was of middle age ; of a light, 
active frame ; dressed in the garb of a mountaineer; 
with a bow and quiver upon his back, and a short 
javelin in his hand. 

“ This man,” said Gaspard, “ you need not fear to 
trust. He has spent his life among the mountains, 
and he can take you to a place where no enemy can 
find you. What say you. Sir Orlando ?” 

‘‘ I will go with him,” replied our hero, for his 
face recommendeth him to my love.” And as the 
youth spoke he struggled to his feet, and leaned 
against his horse ; though he required help before 
he could reach his saddle. 


The Outcast of Milan, 


T56 


“ If you trust me,” said the hunter, whose speech 
was frank and manly, “you will trust one who never 
knew what it was to betray a friend. I shall take 
you to the mountains, and give you shelter beneath 
a roof fashioned by the hand of God himself ; and 
when you are once there you will be safe.” 

“ I have thought this course best,” explained Gas- 
pard. “ We could find shelter in the village, but we 
could not enter without being seen by many curious 
eyes, and if pursuers should happen this way, such a 
course might lead to trouble.” 

“The mountain is the safest place,” said Rosabel. 
“ Let us not go to the village.” 

“ There is one thing more,” pursued Gaspard. 
“It is the knight who needs rest; and when he is 
strong enough he will follow me across the Alps 
into Germany. But you, lady, need not remain here. 
A few leagues further on we will change horses, 
and before the setting of this day’s sun you may be 
well into Tyrol.” 

Rosabel did not hesitate. Turning to the hunter, 
she asked : 

“ Is there room in the cavern for me ?” 

“Yes, lady.” 

“ And for Hippolita ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Then I go with Sir Orlando, for he may need a 
woman’s nursing. When he is able to move on, I 
will move with him.” 

The Saxon made no objection. 

“ You have a kind nurse, sir knight,” he said to 
our hero. 


Need of Rest. 


157 


■ 


But Vendorme made no reply, nor did he show his 
face. His head was bowed, and he seemed deeply 
moved. Gaspard saw the emotion, and without 
waiting for a prolonged silence he turned again to 
the princess : 

“ Fair lady, you can go with the hunter, and you 
may be sure of safety if you are yourself careful. I 
have only one promise to exact from you, that is, 
that you will be governed by Marco’s advice so far 
as exposing yourself to danger is concerned.” 

“ I shall be discreet,” replied Rosabel. 

“And you. Sir Orlando — may I not lay an injunc- 
tion upon you ? I myself am as nothing, but I act for 
one who hath some influence, and that influence I 
may safely pledge in your behalf. And so I urge 
you thus : Go with our good Marco, and remain 
with him until you see me again. I will come as 
soon as I can.” 

Orlando promised that he would do so. 

“ Only,” he added, “ I must judge whether accident 
hath befallen you. I will wait a reasonable time.” 

“Then all is well. I haste away that I may the 
sooner return.” 

With these words Gaspard of Saxony put spurs to 
his horse, and was soon galloping away over the plain. 
Upon the edge of a citron copse he turned and waved 
his hand, and in a moment more he had passed from 
sight. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

THE CAVERN. 

*‘Now, sir knight,” said the hunter, ‘‘if you and 
the ladies are ready, we will be moving. We had 
better get away from here before the people from 
the village come this way.” 

Orlando started to an erect posture, and for a 
moment he seemed like one just awakened from a 
dream. 

“ Marco Pazzoli, do you know that man ?” 

“ What man ?” 

“ The one who has just left^us.” 

“ Somewhat, sir.” 

“ Do you know his master?” 

“ I have seen him.” 

“ I mean the boy Theodore.” 

“Aye — it was of him I spoke. I have seen him, 
but beyond that I know no more than you do. And 
now let us be moving. If you have further questions 
to ask, I will answer them when we have reached our 
destination.” 

“ You are right,” responded Orlando, gathering up 
his rein. “We are ready to follow.” 

The hunter led the way down to the river, to a 



The Cavern, 


159 


place where the water was shallow across a bed of 
solid rock, and where the horses forded the stream 
without difficulty. In a little while he struck into a 
narrow path, which wound around among rocks and 
trees, and which no one unacquainted with its abrupt 
sinuosities could possibly have followed. By and by 
they began to ascend a steep, rough acclivity, with 
the same torturous winding of path, until finally the 
guide stopped in a narrow defile. The way seemed 
to be straight on, as the road opened wide and clear 
in that direction, but he had a different route. Turn- 
ing to the right, he crowded through amass of shrub- 
bery and tangled vines, and a little further on the 
mouth of a cavern was presented to view. 

“There,” he said, as the party drew up before 
the entrance, “ I do not believe that a stranger 
could find this place. And, what is more, I think 
that even you, sir knight, were you carried back to 
the river’s bank, could not find your way up here 
again. 

“You are safe in your opinion,” replied Orlando. 
“ But I suppose there are others who know of this 
cavern ?” 

“ For ten years,” replied the hunter, “ I have 
found shelter here when passing my nights in the 
mountains, and three of my brothers share the 
secret with me ; but during that time it has not, to 
my knowledge, been visited by any one else. Yet, 
before I found it, it had been used as a human habi- 
tation, but I think its former occupants have long 
since passed from earth. We may leave our horses 
here in safety, for they cannot wander far away.” 


i6o The Outcast of Milan, 


Thus speaking Marco dismounted, and when he 
had assisted the others from their saddles, he led the 
way into the cave. For a short distance they pro- 
ceeded in a stooping posture, but soon the way 
grew higher and broader, until at length they 
emerged into a spacious vaulted apartment, which 
was lighted from an aperture in the roof. Leading 
from this were several smaller apartments, where 
beds were set upon frames of wood, and where 
were various other articles of furniture. It was a 
comfortable habitation, and the fugitives seemed to 
breathe more freely as they found themselves 
within the ample protection of its massive walls. 

“ I think,” said Orlando, resting his hand upon 
the hunter’s arm, “ that I must betake myself to one 
of the couches.” He trembled as he spoke, and 
seemed ready to sink from weakness, and he might 
have sank had not Pazzoli supported him. 

“ Upon my life, sir knight, you are well nigh 
exhausted. You could not have ridden much 
further. But you shall have rest and nourishment, 
and if that can help you, all may yet be well.” He 
led the youth into one of the smaller apartments, ’ 
where a comfortable bed was already prepared, 
and having helped him to remove his outer gar- 
ments, he brought wine and a few dried dates, after 
which Orlando lay down, and was very soon asleep. 

When the hunter returned to the main cave, he 
announced to the females that he was to be their 
cook and their servant. 

“ I promised Gaspard,” said he, “ that I would 
make you as comfortable as possible.” 


The Cavern. 


i6i 


“ First,” interrupted Rosabel, with a show of 
anxiety, “ tell me how is it with Sir Orlando ?” 

“ You need not fear for him,” replied Marco. 

He is sleeping soundly, and when he wakes he will 
be much improved. And for you, ladies, I have 
some bread and meat in my pannier, and there is 
wine and water in the cave. As soon as I have 
prepared your breakfast, I will return to the town 
and procure milk and fruit, and also bring some 
other little articles of comfort.” 

It was a grateful meal which the hunter provided, 
and as soon as the girls had eaten they retired to 
places of rest which had been pointed out to them. 
And so, at the hour of noon, when Marco Pazzoli 
started down the mountain upon his errand to the 
village, he left his charges all fast asleep. 

Just as the last rays of daylight were fading in the 
distant horizon, the hunter entered the cavern upon 
his return, and the sound of his footfall aroused 
Rosabel and Hippolita, who had slept soundly until 
now, but Vendorme did not awake. 

“ He may be ill,” said the princess. 

“ I think not,” returned Marco. “ He is sleeping 
off a prostrating fatigue.” 

“ But — he should have awakened by this time, 
sir.” 

“ Nay, lady,” said the hunter, shaking his head, 
and yet allowing a light smile to creep around the 
corners of his mouth, “ I fancy you would not have 
been yet awake had not my entrance aroused you.” 

“But the knight slept before I did, sir.” 

“ Not long, lady ; and moreover, you must 


i 62 


The Outcast of Milan, 


remember that he was more in need of sleep than 
you were.” 

As the princess made no reply to this, Marco pro- 
ceeded to make preparations for supper. But 
Rosabel was not easy. She sat awhile and watched 
the movements of her cavern host, and then arose 
and took one of the candles which he had lighted. 
With a noiseless tread she approached the apart- 
ments where the knight lay, and as noiselessly did 
she enter. She was careful to make no sound which 
might disturb the sleeper, but she forgot her candle, 
and as its rays fell upon the knight’s face, he awoke. 

“ Help ! help !” he groaned, struggling to free 
himself from the clothing. 

Impulsively the maiden started to his side, and 
tenderly brushed the raven locks from his brow. 

“ You are safe,” she said. Do you not know 
where you are ?” 

He raised his head, and as he gazed upon the 
beautiful face that bent over him, he seemed to 
recover his senses. 

“ Lady Rosabel ! Ah — I remember. We are 

in the cave. Gaspard of Saxony brought us hither.” 

As he spoke he raised himself to a sitting posture, 
and presently he stood erect. 

“ Are you better, sir ?” 

“ Much better, lady. My head is more steady. I 
think food would help me now.” 

“ It was for that I came,” returned Rosabel. “ It 
is now evening, and our host is preparing supper. 
Will you join us ?” 

“ Aye, most willingly.” 


The Cavern, 


163 


And he walked out with her, leaning upon her 
arm. 

The meal was a nourishing one, and when 
Orlando arose from the board he felt very much like 
his old self. His head ached no more, and he could 
stand without difficulty. But he was not strong. 
He walked a few times up and down the large cave, 
and then shook his head as he sank upon a seat. 

“ I need more rest,” he said with a smile, “ but 
there is nothing beyond that. A few days will restore 
to me my strength.” 

“ Let that be your only care,” returned the hunter. 
“ If you will look to your health, I will attend to the 
other wants.” 

At an early hour the knight again sought his 
couch, and shortly afterwards Rosabel and Hippolita 
followed his example. It was on this evening, after 
they had retired, that Hippolita begged of the prin- 
cess that she would never tell Vendorme how she 
had worked against him. 

“ I did not realize what I was doing,” she urged. 
“ I knew not how to disobey my master, and I fol- 
lowed his directions with fear and trembling. And 
yet — O, yet, lady, had I known what was intended — 
had I known the fate to which the young hero had 
been doomed — I could not, I would not, have done 
as I did. O, I hope and pray that he may never 
know all. Let the last act make recompense for the 
first.” 

“ Rest easy, Hippolita,” replied the princess, plac- 
ing her hand kindly upon the girl's head. “ Sir 
Orlando shall not know that you were ever led to 


164 


The Outcast of Milan. 


work knowingly against him. If you are true and 
faithful henceforth, he shall only bless you for the 
service you have rendered him. And, furthermore, 
in promising this I am not departing from my own 
choice ; for, truly, I think both the knight and 
myself owe you much. And so, we will be 
friends.” 

Hippolita went to sleep with the name of the prin- 
cess, mingled with blessings, upon her lips. 

On the following day, Orlando was strong enough 
to walk without fatigue ; and by the time the shades 
of night gathered over the mountain again, he felt 
almost as well as ever. 

Another morning came, and when the knight 
arose from the table, he smote his hand upon his 
breast until the cavern resounded with the echoes of 
the blows. 

“ I am myself once more,” he said ; “ and am 
ready now for work. When will Gaspard return ?” 

“In a few days,” replied Marco; “and perhaps 
sooner. He may be here to-morrow. However, you 
will wait till he returns.” 

“ I don’t know about that.” 

“I think it will be best.” 

Our hero had no desire to dispute or argue with 
his kind host, so he walked away to the entrance, 
and did not come back until the board had been 
cleared. 

During that forenoon Orlando did not once speak 
with the princess, but walked apart by himself. 
After dinner, however, he approached her^ as she sat 
alone. 


The Cavern. 


165 


“ Lady," he said, his voice trembling as he spoke, 
“ I should esteem it a privilege if you would grant 
me a few moments of your time." 

“As many moments as you desire, sir," she 
replied. 

“ I would ask you a few questions." 

“ I will answer them to the best of my ability. 
But first, sir, will you be seated ?" 

He sat down by he’r side, and after a little hesita- 
tion proceeded : 

“ First, lady, I think that Hippolita was deceived 
by those who sent her to my shop. I know you 
have already made some explanation of this ; but 
my poor head was in such a whirl at the time that I 
may not have understood it." 

“ She was instructed to tell you a falsehood, sir," 
replied Rosabel. “ I had no knowledge of her 
errand at the time." 

“ So I thought. And she it was who first con- 
ceived the idea of setting me free ?" 

“ Yes, sir ; for she alone, of all who were willing 
to befriend you, knew of your danger." 

“ And you, lady, knowing that she purposed to 
open my prison door, took advantage of the occa- 
sion for your own escape ?" 

“You do not put the question fairly, sir. The 
event resulted in my escape ; but my escape was 
not the prime object. Hippolita, when she found to 
what a dreadful fate she had been instrumental in 
leading you, resolved to set you free if she could ; 
but she could not do this without my assistance. 
She sought me, and I helped her." 


The Outcast of Milan, 


1 66 


Orlando bowed his head, and after a little he 
resumed : 

“ And thus, lady, we are both escaped from Milan. 
As for myself, I am as a wanderer upon the desert. 
Whither my feet shall turn when I leave this place I 
do not know. If I can serve you, you may command 
me. If I can aid you, I am as your slave. You have 
but to speak.” 

Rosabel was silent. 

“ Perhaps,” continued the knight, “ you have your 
course marked out — you have friends whom you 
will seek ?” 

The princess had been sitting for some time with 
her eyes bent upon the rock at her feet. She raised 
her head, and after gazing for a moment into her 
companion’s face, she said, in a low, tremulous 
tone : 

“ I was young when my father died, and the duke 
of Milan was made guardian over me. From that 
time I have been so completely under the control of 
the tyrant that I have had no opportunity to make 
many friends in the outer world. When the dread- 
ful marriage with Ludovico was urged upon me, I 
began to look about me for help. My thoughts 
turned first to Bergamo, but I knew not whom I 
could trust there ; for those Avho held stations of 
authority would not dare to cross the path of the 
duke. In every direction I turned my attention, 
but the needed help I could not find. Finally the 
dark day was close upon me, and my whole future 
of joy or sorrow hung upon the chances of an hour. 
It was in that hour I met you. I need not recount 


The Cavern. 


167 


what then passed. My scheme of redemption failed, 
and I was cast back upon the mercy of the tyrant ; 
while you, for having tried to help me, were ban- 
ished from your native city.” 

“Aye, lady — I remember all that.” 

“ Again,” pursued Rosabel, “ was the dreadful 
fate upon me. On the very evening when Hippolita 
came to me, the duke had been before her, and 
informed me that I was to wed with his son on the 
next day ; and, furthermore, he showed to me an 
edict from the Pope of Rome, ordering the marriage, 
so that even my power to give up my property to 
the church, and enter a convent, was taken from me. 
In an unexpected moment the opportunity presented 
itself of escape with you. What followed I need not 
tell. I can only say — we are here, and whither next 
my feet shall tend I know not.” 

There was a palpable tremor in the knight’s 
frame, but he had nerved himself for the task, and 
he was determined to go on to the end. 

“Lady,” he said, “I remember very well what 
has transpired, even to the words that have been 
spoken ; but I cannot forget that you have been act- 
ing under powerful extraneous influences. You 
came to me first for help ; you came helpless — 
defenceless ; and the words which you then spoke 
were spoken under circumstances over which you 
had no control. In short, I dare not presume upon 
the past. .But now, lady, we are free. Ere long the 
Saxon will return to conduct us away. If it be your 
wish — ” 

“ Say on, sir.” 


i68 The Outcast of Milan, 


“ I was about to say — if it be your wish that our 
paths should henceforth diverge, you have but to 
speak." 

“ Nay, sir," said Rosabel ; you have no right to 
put that duty upon me." 

“ But I must put it upon you." 

“ Why so ?" 

“ Because, if the choice were left with me, the 
word would never be spoken. Pardon me if I 
offend." 

“ What word would never be spoken ?" 

“The word of separation between thee and me." 

Rosabel of Bergamo placed her hand within 
Orlando’s embrace, and looking up into his face she 
said : 

“ As I once told thee beneath the roof of thy 
lowly shop, so now I tell thee again — tell thee when 
I am free to act as I please.” 

♦ ♦ ♦ * * 

Half an hour afterwards the princess called her 
attendant. 

“ Hippolita," she said, holding our hero by the 
hand as she spoke, “ that you may know the full 
meaning of all you see and hear, and be thus 
enabled to serve me more understandingly, I have 
thought it fit that 3^ou should be taken fully into my 
confidence. Know, then, that to this gentleman my 
heart is given, and my hand is pledged." 



CHAPTER XV. 

ALONE ! 

On the third morning Orlando arose, professing to 
feel as strong as he ever felt in his life. 

“ Only," he said, “ I feel the need of fresh air and 
exercise. I cannot remain here much longer. If the 
Saxon does not make his appearance soon, we must 
make our own way out of Lombardy." 

The truth was, our hero had begun to grow restive 
under restraint. He did not like to wear a yoke. 
He did not like the idea of holding himself under 
the control of a man whose purposes were unknown 
to him. He believed that Gaspard was honest — that 
Gaspard meant to assist him — but he liked not to 
thus acknowledge Gaspard's authority. Or, per- 
haps there was something deeper than this : He 
may not have been satisfied with the manner in 
which Gaspard kept his own counsel. It may not 
have pleased him that the Saxon had concealed from 
him so much important matter. However, be that 
as it may, the knight was uneasy ; and, but for the 
earnest appeal of Marco Pazzoli, which had some 
effect upon the decision of Rosabel, he would have 
departed on this very morning for the north. 


170 


The Outcast of Milan. 


“I don’t know,” said the hunter, after the break- 
fast had been disposed of, “ but that you might take 
a turn with me further up the mountain. I have 
thought of taking my bow, and pursuing some 
game.” 

“ Aye, gladly,” interrupted Rosabel, who saw that 
her lover needed the exercise. 

‘‘ But there is one thing more,” added Marco. 
“ You must not wander away from the cave. Within 
these walls you are as safe as safe can be ; but I 
cannot answer for the result of your wandering off.” 

“ You need not fear for us,” returned the princess. 
“ You will not be gone long ?” 

“ Not more than two or three hours.” 

“That is not longer than you were gone on the 
afternoon of the day of our arrival, when Sir Orlando 
was helpless ; and if there was no danger then there 
can be none now.” 

“ Certainly not,” replied the hunter ; and then 
turning to Vendorme, he added, “ I think, sir, you 
need the exercise, and if you will make preparation, 
we will soon be off. I have an extra bow and plenty 
of arrows.” 

Our hero gladly embraced the opportunity, and 
when he was ready to set forth he took Rosabel’s 
hand and pressed it to his lips. 

“ You will be very careful,” the maiden said, gaz- 
ing up with anxious fondness into his face. 

“ Aye, Rosabel ; and I was about to lay the same 
injunction upon you.” 

“ O, be not anxious on my account. It is you who 


Alone, 


171 

are going into danger. You will find us all safe 
when you come back.” 

“And when I do come, sweet love, I hope I may 
bring some trophy worthy of your acceptance.” He 
pressed her hand to his lips again, and then followed 
Pazzoli from the cavern. 

For half an hour the two girls sat together in the 
great cave, their conversation running upon a great 
many different topics ; and at the end of that time 
Rosabel suggested the idea of going to the entrance, 
and looking out upon the clear sky. 

“We will not wander away,” she said, “nor will we 
go from the cave itself.” 

“Surely,” replied Hippolita, “there can be no pos- 
sible harm in that. Why — of course there cannot,” 
she continued, gaining confidence from her own 
reason. “We are safe because we are in a cavern ; 
we are safe because the cavern is a secret place ; and 
the cavern is a secret place simply because people do 
not know where the entrance is. So, it is very plain 
that we should be just as safe at the entrance of the 
cave as we are in here.” 

This reasoning was so plain and self-evident that 
the princess at once arose and led the way to the 
mouth of the cave. But when they had reached that 
point they were no better off than before, for a dense 
mass of interwoven vine shut them in from any 
extended view. Upon one hand, however, they saw 
an open space, and a way which seemed to lead up 
to the roof of the cavern. Surely there could be no 
harm in going up there. They would not venture 
out beyond the cover of their retreat ; but this way, 


The Outcast of Milan. 


172 


so narrow and so rugged, was evidently within the . 
secret place. It might lead to the top of the rock, 
whence they could obtain a grand view. Rosabel 
started up first. She had to move very carefully, 
clambering from stone to stone, clinging by roots 
and rocky points ; and at length she arrived upon a 
level table of rock, upon three sides of which arose 
perpendicular walls, while upon the fourth was a 
net-work of shrub and vine, growing out from a 
crevice, very much like that which guarded the 
mouth of the cavern. Of course, so much labor 
must not be lost. If they could pass this barrier 
they would in all probability gain a view of the 
mountains, and perhaps look off upon the distant 
country. Rosabel pushed her way through, and she 
was not disappointed. She stood upon a broad table * 
of rock, with the mountain peaks towering in sublime 
grandeur above her on one hand, while upon another 
she gazed off upon the plains and rivers. It was a 
wild scene, and for a long time the two adventurers 
gazed in silence. 

“We will not go any further,” said Rosabel. 

“We had better not," replied Hippolita. 

“No, we will sit here and enjoy the scene, and 
breathe the fresh air. I suppose, if we were so 
inclined, we could wander away as far as we pleased, 
for I doubt not but some of the passes are open. 
But we will remain here. I will not forget my 
promise to Sir Orlando.” 

The girls sat down upon a loose fragment of rock, 
and after discussing various matters connected with 
the scenery, the conversation turned upon their 


Alone, 


173 


flight from Milan. The princess had discovered that 
her companion possessed an intellect of uncommon 
clearness ; that she was endowed with a good share of 
wit; and, furthermore, she had found her true-hearted 
and kind ; and hence she had come to trust her with 
the deepest thought of her soul. 

“Were you surprised when I told you that I had 
pledged my hand to the knight ?” Rosabel asked, as 
the conversation seemed to legitimately approach 
that point. 

“Indeed I was not, lady. I knew that it must be 
so. How could it be otherwise ?’’ 

“ O — it might have been otherwise, Hippolita. I 
need not have pledged him my hand had it pleased 
me otherwise.” 

“ Ah — but, my dear mistress, when we are left to 
our own will, we are very sure to give our hand 
where our heart is gone.” 

“ But, Hippolita, I need not have given my 
heart.” 

The attendant shook her head. 

“ The heart is not a creature of the will, lady. 
The heart of the maiden is not the slave of her 
choice. Rather the choice is the slave of her heart. 
If you had never seen Orlando Vendorme, or if you 
had never spoken to him, it might have been differ- 
ent; but such a man once seen and known, is sure 
to be loved. In all Lombardy I have not seen his 
equal. Ah, lady, your love is blessed.” 

Rosabel bowed her head, for this last remark 
touched her deeply. Hippolita waited a little while 
and then resumed : 




The Outcast of Milan, 


“ As I compared the noble young knight whom I 
had led to the dungeon with the master whom I had 
served, I was so worked upon that I could have laid 
down my life to save the victim. And, lady, I 
might not have dared to come to you for aid had I 
not known you loved him. Ah, your love was not 
a secret.” 

“You speak truly,” said Rosabel. “ I gave Ven- 
dorme my heart when I first knew him; and I have 
now only to pray that no calamity may overtake 
us. I ask not to have back my wealth or my titles. 
I leave them all behind, content never to see my 
native land again, so that my love is safe.” 

“Speaking of this,” remarked Hippolita, “leads 
me to ask what steps you mean to take in the 
future. Do you know whither the Saxon means to 
lead us ?” 

“ No,” replied Rosabel. “ I only know that he has 
proved a friend thus far, and I am willing to trust 
him. And I am the more ready to follow him 
because I know that he serves those whom Manfred 
fears and hates.” 

“ You speak of the Saxon knights ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ And you speak truly, my dear lady. I over- 
heard de Castro and Ludovico talking on that very 
subject. They spoke particularly of the youthful 
count, Theodore ; and I know that they were 
troubled exceedingly. Ha !” 

“ What is it ?” 

“ Mercy !” 

The girls started to their feet, and a cry of horror 


A lone. 


175 


escaped from their lips as a human being came tum- 
bling down from one of the high crags close at hand. 
It was a man, and he fell near where they stood. 
They had heard him first — had heard him utter a 
cry of alarm; and as they looked up they saw him 
just losing his hold upon the treacherous rock high 
above them. For some moments they were utterly 
paralyzed, though not with fear. The sight of the 
bruised and senseless fellow-creature excited their 
keenest sympathy, and as soon as the startling shock 
had passed they moved to the sufferer's assistance. 
He was a light-framed, middle-aged man, habited 
in a garb of chamois skin, and upon his back was 
an empty quiver. 

“ It is some poor hunter,” said Hippolita, “ who 
has been ranging the mountains in quest of game. 
I hope he is not dead.” 

Without thought of harm or danger to herself the 
princess knelt by the side of the stranger,and raised 
his head upon her lap. There was a wound upon 
his temple, and he must have been bruised in other 
places. Rosabel spoke to him, but he made no 
answer, nor did he betray any sign of conscious- 
ness. 

“There is life in his heart,” she said, looking up 
into her attendant’s face, “ and if we had him in the 
cavern we might revive him. If he remains here he 
may die.” 

“ We can carry him down,” returned Hippolita. 
“ He is not heavy, and the distance is short.” 

“ We will carry him down,” added Rosabel. The 


1 76 The Outcast of Milan. 


life of a fellow-creature must not be lost while we 
have power to save it.” 

With this generous motive the girls lifted the 
senseless form from the rock, and bore it down by 
the way they had ascended. It was a difficult task, 
and many times did they slip, and come near fall- 
ing;, but a noble fortitude gave them uncommon 
strength, and finally they reached the mouth of the 
cave, where they were forced to stop and take 
breath. After a little while they bore their burden 
in, and when they had fixed a bed and a pillow, Hip- 
polita brought water and some cordial. The wound 
upon the temple was washed, the brow bathed, and 
the hands chafed ; and ere long the sufferer opened 
his eyes. In a little while his senses had so far 
returned to him that he raised himself upon his 
elbow, and asked where he was. 

“ You are safe, and in good hands,” replied Rosa- 
bel. “ Partake of this, and you will feel better.” 

She extended to him a cup of wine, which he 
drank at a draught ; and very soon afterwards he 
sat up and gazed curiously upon his nurses. 

“ Am I dead ?” he muttered, “ or do angels inhabit 
these mountains ? What has happened ? How is it 
that I am here ?” 

“ You slipped and fell upon the rocks,” said 
Rosabel; “and we chanced to be near enough to 
pick you up.” 

“ And who are you ?” the man asked, looking 
sharply into the face of the princess. 

“ That I am a friend, sir, I think I have already 


A lone. 


177 


shown. Further than that it could not benefit you 
to know.” 

“ Pardon me, lady. I meant not to be inquisitive.” 
He gazed upon her a moment more — gazed from her 
face to her fine apparel, and upon the resplendent 
jewel that sparkled upon her bosom, and then added, 
in an easy tone — “Yes, yes — I remember. I was 
pursuing a wild goat — I had fired an arrow — I was 
eager for the game — I placed my foot upon a treach- 
erous rock, and fell. That is the last until I find 
myself here. But I think I have not been badly 
hurt. This blow upon my head stunned me — that 
was all. My limbs are sound.” And thus speaking 
he arose and walked to and fro across the cave. 
“ My dear ladies, how can I recompense you for 
what you have done ?” 

“ We have our recompense already, sir, in having 
done some little good. But, if you would do us a 
favor, you will forget that you have ever seen us.” 

“ Fair lady, that were impossible.” 

“You know my meaning, sir.” 

“ Pardon me. I understand. My lips are sealed. 
But — are you here alone ?” 

“ We have companions at hand. They have been 
hunting, as you were ; but they must be here very 
soon. Will you rest until they come ?” 

“ I ought not. I have left friends down the moun- 
tain who will be anxious. Will you give me one 
more cup of your wine ?” 

Rosabel gave him the wine, and when he had 
drank it he said that he must go. 

“ I am strong enough to walk down the moun- 


1 78 The Outcast of Milan, 


tain, but there is a ringing in my head which warns 
me that I may need nursing to-night. Upon my 
life, fair ladies, it would afford me joy to remain 
with you, but I must not. I thank you a thousand 
times for the service you have rendered. I shall 
never forget it ; and until chance shall throw the 
opportunity in my way for some return of the favor, 
my gratitude must suffice. I think I can find my 
way out.” 

When he reached the mouth of the cave he saw 
the path which led through the mass of vines, and 
without stopping to speak again with the girls, he 
pushed his way out, and was soon lost to sight. 

Rosabel was the first to speak after the stranger 
had gone. 

“I hope no harm can come of this.” 

“We could not have done differently,” said Hip- 
polita. 

“ We might have nursed the stranger away from 
the cave,” suggested the princess ; “and we might 
have found out who he was.” 

“I don’t think there can be any danger, my dear 
mistress. He is evidently one of the village hunters. 
At all events, I think we did but our duty.” 

Now that the man had gone, both the girls found 
time to reflect upon consequences ; and^though they 
tried to assure each other, still it was very evident 
that they had fears which were not expressed. 

“We will not worry,” said Rosabel; “but when 
Orlando returns we will tell him what has happened, 
and he may do what he thinks proper.” 

By and by the hunters came back, bringing with 


Alone, 


179 


them a goodly lot of game, and while Orlando was 
telling the story of their excursion over the moun- 
tains, Marco prepared the dinner, for it was past the 
hour of noon. Rosabel did not yet say anything 
about the stranger who had been in the cave, think- 
ing that she would wait until she could speak with 
her lover alone. The dinner was eaten, and after 
the things had been cleared away, Orlando and 
Marco went out from the cave, and shortly after- 
wards the knight came back alone. 

“ Now,” he said, taking a seat by Rosabel’s side, 
“we will pass away the hours as best we can. 
Marco has gone down the mountain, and will not 
return until to-morrow. O, how much better I feel 
for my exercise. I am strong again, love — as 
strong as when I smote down Hugh de Castro in 
the list.” 

“ And I have had the fresh air, Orlando.” 

“ Ah — have you ?” 

“ Yes. Hippolita and I found our way to the top 
of our cavern.” 

“ Ah, — I am glad if you enjoyed it.” 

“ But we had an adventure.” And thereupon 
Rosabel told to her lover all that had happened — 
forgetting nothing— relating e1?erything, even to 
the words which the stranger had spoken. 

Orlando was startled ; and it was plain to be seen 
that the event had made him uneasy, though he 
would not speak his feelings. 

“ We meant no harm,” said Rosabel. “ It was I 
who led the way out from the cave ; and when the 


i8o The Outcast of Milan, 


poor man was cast helpless at our feet we could not 
leave him to suffer.” 

“ Dearest Rosabel,” replied Orlando, taking her 
hand, “ if you have erred, it has surely been on the 
side of a noble duty. God forbid that I should 
blame you. And yet I wish it had not so happened. 
I wish the stranger had not been thrown upon your 
mercy. But let us say no more about it. On the 
morrow we shall leave this place, whether the Saxon 
returns or not, and until then we will cheer our- 
selves with pleasant hopes.” 

And thus did the knight try to dispose of the 
subject of the stranger’s visit to the cave, but he 
could hot so easily throw it from his mind. More 
than once during the afternoon was he lost in 
reflection upon it, and when his companion asked 
him why he looked so serious, he tried to laugh 
away her suspicions. 

Supper time came, and Hippolita set the table, 
and cleared it away again. The evening passed, 
and when Rosabel arose to retire, the knight 
pressed her hand to his lips. 

“ Sweet angels guard and preserve you,” he said. 
His voice trembled, and he held her hand for some 
moments after he had spoken. 

“ All will be right to-morrow,” replied the prin- 
cess. *‘God bless you.” She raised her face to his, 
and he kissed her lips. And then she went away to 
her little apartment, followed by Hippolita. 

For an hour after this did Vendorme keep watch 
in the cave, but at length he grew tired and sleepy, 
and concluded to seek his couch. He went out to 


Alone, 


i8i 


the entrance, where all was still and quiet, and when 
he came back he retired to his sleeping apartment. 

“ I wish they had not brought that stranger into 
the cave,” he said, as he cast himself upon his bed. 

By and by he slept, and he dreamed that the 
stranger came back to the cave in the shape of a 
fiery dragon, and carried off the princess. He 
started up in terror, but it was only a wild fancy. 
He lay awake for a long time, but finally fatigue 
overpowered him, and this time he slept more 
soundly. 

He slept an hour — perhaps two hours — and then 
he awoke again. This time he heard a sharp cry, 
as of some one in distress — a cry for mercy — for 
help. Did he dream again? No; for now, as he 
sat up, with his senses clear, he heard the sound of 
feet, and a smothered groan. It was distant from 
him, but he could hear it plainly. As quickly as 
possible he leaped from his bed, and made his way 
out into the great cavern, but all was dark and 
silent as Erebus there. He called the name of 
Rosabel — called it twice — thrice, but no reply. He 
ventured into the place where the lady and her 
attendant had slept, and called again, and yet no 
answer. He laid his hand upon the couch, and no 
one was there. Quickly as possible he struck a 
light, and examined the cavern in all its parts. 

He was alone, and Rosabel was gone ! He called 
her name once more— called out in the deep agony 
of his tortured soul— and the answer was only the 
echoes of his own voice from the vaulted arches of 
the gloomy cavern. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

COMPANIONS ON THE ROAD. 

-Vendorme’s first thought, as soon as he was com- 
posed enough to think, was of the stranger who had 
been taken into the cave. Through his agency the 
enemy had come and borne the princess away. 
With swift movements he donned his outer clothing, 
and buckled on his sword ; and then, having lighted 
the lantern which Marco had left, he made his way 
from the cave. For some distance he followed the 
path by which he had been led on his ascent, and at 
length he reached a point where a bed of soft sand 
had been washed across the way. He stopped here 
and examined the tracks — some of. them were 
fresh, and upon these he bestowed particular atten- 
tion. He found footprints revealing the recent 
passage of six persons over the sand — two of them 
were delicate prints, made by the feet of a woman ; 
and all had gone down the mountain. With rapid 
strides the knight sprang over the rocks where the 
way was remembered ; but more than once he was 
forced to retrace his steps upon finding himself in 
places where all forward movement was cut off. 

At length it was evident that he had lost his way. 


Companions on the Road. 


183 


He went back a piece, and became more involved 
than before. A little while he reflected, and then 
resolved to push on down the declivity, believing 
that he must come out at the foot of the mountain 
at some time. It was a severe task, but he kept per- 
sistently on. Over rocks ; through thick masses of 
tangled vine ; down steep gorges ; sometimes forced 
to back out from impassable chasms ; and often 
stumbling and falling. At length he lost his lantern ; 
and after hours of toil he found himself in a situation 
where he gave up in despair. He was shut in by 
towering cliffs ; unable to find the path by which he 
had entered ; and enveloped in a darkness as black 
and impenetrable as the closed tomb. Many times 
he tried to make his way out, and as many times did 
he fail. In the end he was forced to give up, and 
throw himself upon the hard rocks for rest. When 
daylight came he arose, and finally succeeded in free- 
ing himself from the trap ; and after laboring an hour 
longer he reached the foot of the mountain, and soon 
afterwards gained the river. He was nearly opposite 
the village, and not far from where he stood was a 
small boat. He gained this, and upon reaching the 
opposite bank the first person he met was Marco 
Pazzoli. 

“ In heaven's name,” cried the hunter, as soon as 
he was sure that his eyes did not deceive him, “ what 
does this mean ? Are you Orlando Vendorme 

“ In truth I am.” 

Good sir knight, you are mad !” 

By Saint Paul, you speak the truth, Marco. I 


184 The Outcast of Milan, 


am mad. Enough has happened to drive angels to 
madness. The princess of Bergamo is lost!” 

“ What ! Dead !” 

“ No. She has been snatched away from the cav- 
ern. They came last night, while I slept, and 
dragged her off. I heard the noise ; but before I 
could follow they , were beyond my reach. I started 
in pursuit and lost my way, and here I am. O, 
Marco, have you not seen them ? Have you not 
heard something?” 

“ In the name of wonder,” gasped the hunter, 
seeming almost inclined to believe that the knight 
was crazy, “ how could it have happened ? Who 
could have found the cave ?” 

Ah, Marco, there is the trouble. You did not 
know it when you went away yesterday ; and I did 
not know it until after you were gone. The girls 
conveyed a stranger into the cavern. Hold. Let me 
tell you how it was.” 

And thereupon Orlando related, in as few words 
as possible, the story which Rosabel had told to him 
concerning the unfortunate hunter ; and concluded 
by relating more particularly the events of the past 
night. 

“ I fear,” said Marco, after listening to the account, 
“ that the lady has fallen into the hands of an enemy. 
But let us go to my cot. It is not far away ; and 
there we can talk while you rest.” 

The hunter's dwelling was upon[the outskirts of the 
village, and when they reached it, Marco led the way 
to an apartment where they could be alone, and 
where refreshment was soon provided. 


Companions on the Road, 185 


“ Did Rosabel give you any description of the man 
whom she took into the cave ?” asked the host, while 
our hero was eating. 

“Yes,” replied Vendorme. “He was a small, 
light-framed man ; of middle age ; with a piercing 
black eye, and long, flowing hair ; and habited in a 
garb of chamois skin.” 

“ Ah — I know the fellow well,” said Marco. “ He 
is a spy of the robber band that infest the mountains. 
And I may tell you now what I have not told you 
before : These robbers have been searching for you. 
They have been seen hovering around the village ; 
they have been scouring the country beyond here ; 
and some of their messengers have been making 
inquiries of the peasants. It is very plain that the 
lady Rosabel has fallen into their hands. The spy 
could never have found the cave but for that 
wonderful accident. It is very bad.” 

“It is terrible!” cried Vendorme, smiting his 
fist upon his bosom. “ But I must not remain here 
idle.” 

“ What would you do, sir knight ?” 

“ Give pursuit to the villains.” 

“ Do you think it possible to overcome them as 
you are now ?” 

“ That is not the question of a brave man.” 

“But it is a proper question for a wise man. Sir 
Orlando — if you will pardon the freedom. But I 
have a better plan. If you will wait here, I will go 
out and make inquiries ; and if the princess has been 
taken towards Milan I can easily find it out. Will 
you trust thus much to me V 


The Outcast of Milan, 


1 86 


“ You will not be long ?” 

“No. I have a fleet horse.** 

“ Then go.’* 

“But you will remain here.** 

“ Yes — I will wait a reasonable time.*' 

The hunter went away, and for two hours Orlando 
was alone in the cot. He was becoming almost 
tired of the task, and was pacing nervously to and 
fro across the narrow apartment, when his host 
returned. 

“ What news ?” 

“ First," said Marco, taking a seat as he spoke 
“you must answer me a question. Do you think it 
possible that the Duke of Milan could engage the 
robbers to assist him ?" 

“ Why not ?" returned Orlando. “ These robbers 
will work for anybody who will pay them." 

“ Ah, but you misunderstand me. I know the 
robbers would work for him ; but would he engage 
them ? Would Manfred of Milan give his work into 
the hands of outlaws ?" 

“ Oho — you don’t know the villainous tyrant if you 
ask such a question. I believe these robbers have 
been in his employ, more or less, for years. I know 
that the captain of his guard has employed them. 
Aye — and I know more : I know that men have 
served in the ducal guard, and been members of the 
robber band at one and the same time." 

“ Then," said Marco, “ I can tell you where the 
lady Rosabel has gone. A party of the robber 
knights, four in number, have borne her to Milan. 
They crossed the Saveso, just above Monzo, before 


Companions on the Road. 


187 


daylight this morning. And of course,” he added, 
after a pause, “ the question of her whereabouts can 
no longer be an open one.” 

“ No,” groaned Orlando, pressing his hands 
together. “ It is as my worst fears pointed. What 
— what can we do ?” 

“ Why not wait for the coming of the Saxon ?” 
suggested Marco. 

“ But who knows when he will come ? I may wait 
here a week, and in that time Rosabel’s fate is sealed. 
By heaven, I should die ere that. I cannot do it. 
If I would live, I must act.” 

“ And what will you do, sir knight ? It is not for 
me to dictate ; nor do I know that I can properly 
advise. Gaspard came to me, and asked me to con- 
duct you to a safe retreat, where you could remain 
until he returned. I did as he wished ; and I think 
you will admit that, but for an unforeseen accident, 
all would have gone as I had planned.” 

‘'Aye, Marco, I admit more than that,” cried the 
knight, who was touched by his host’s keen disap- 
pointment. “ If all had been done as you ordered, 
this thing might not have happened. The blame 
must rest upon me. I ought not to have left the 
females alone in the cave. But it is too late to think 
of these things. I must go to Milan.” 

“ Can you do anything, when once there, com- 
mensurate with the risk you run ?” 

« Yes — yes,” exclaimed the knight, striding across 
the floor. “I can die in a true cause. That is 
something. But I think I can do more. I have 
friends in Milan. I believe I can stir up a rebellion 


1 88 The Outcast of Milan. 


that shall shake the ducal throne ! Marco — I go to 
Milan !” 

“ But not now, sir. If you must go, had you not 
better wait until night ? You should understand 
the reason for such a course.” 

“ You are right, good Marco. I will wait until the 
shadow falls again, and under its cover I will go. 
You will have a horse ready for me ?” 

“ Yes.” 

It was a long, tedious day for Orlando Vendorme ; 
but he worried through the creeping hours as best 
he could, and when the shadows of evening began to 
fall, he was anxious to be off. 

“A horse is ready for you,” said Marco Pazzoli, 
after they had eaten supper, “ but there is danger in 
your way.” 

I know there is danger, and I am ready to meet 
it. I have lived in the midst of danger for months. 
But if you have brought for me a fleet horse, I fear 
not.” 

“ I have procured one of the fleetest to be found.” 

“ That is enough ; and now I am off. Why do 
you hold on upon me ?” 

“ Sir Knight, I would have you fully appreciate 
the danger you are to meet. The robbers must be 
lying in wait for you ; and now that the princess is 
found, they will have narrower limits for their search. 
If I thought I could be of assistance to you, I would 
willingly go with you.” 

“ I thank you, Marco ; but your company is not 
needed. It would be of no use. Now let me go.” 

The hunter still held on upon the knight’s arm, 


Companions on the Road. 


189 


“ Sir Orlando, I must say my say, even though it 
offend you. I do not like to see you start off. A 
day can make no difference, and by another sun the 
Saxon may be here.” 

“ What care I for the Saxon ?” cried Vendorme, 
pulling himself away from the grasp of his host. “ I 
have listened to him too much already. If I had not 
minded him I might have been — ” 

“Where ?” 

“ Far from here, at all events. But enough of that. 
I suppose the Saxon did what he thought was best, 
and I thank him ; but I do not choose to hang like a 
dependent upon him. I am off for Milan, and my 
good sword shall insure me a path. Farewell, good 
Marco — and if we ever meet again I will recount to 
you my adventures.” 

“ And,” returned the hunter, with a dubious shake 
of the head, “ if I am not greatly deceived, you will 
have adventures enough before you reach Milan. 
But I need not warn you more. I can only pray 
that you may reach the city in safety.” 

“ Mine be the risk,” said Vendorme, moving 
towards the door. 

As they reached the little door they were met by 
Pazzoli’s wife, who had a garment in her hand. 

“ I came near forgetting that,” said Marco ; “ for 
I had hoped that there might be no occasion for it. 
Your doublet, sir knight, is very conspicuous, and I 
have thought this peasant’s frock and hat might be 
of service to you.” 

Orlando readily accepted the offer ; and when he 
had pulled on the frock, and exchanged his plumed 


1 90 The Outcast of Milan, 

cap for the wide-rimmed hat, he stepped out and 
was soon in the saddle. 

“ Farewell, Marco.” 

“ God be with thee ! was the hunter’s response. 

Orlando left the village at an easy trot, and as 
soon as the country was open before him, he started 
his horse into a gallop. The night was not quite so 
dark as he could have wished. A moon, four days 
old, hung in the western heavens, and though fleecy 
clouds were sweeping over it, yet the light was very 
palpable. However, this seeming trouble had its 
advantage — it rendered the road more plain, so that 
the rider could dash on with less risk of stumbling. 
At the end of an hour he struck into a deep wood 
which stretched along through a valley, and when 
he emerged from this he ascended a steep acclivity, 
at the brow of which he was brought up by half a 
dozen horsemen who had arranged themselves across 
the path. He would have dashed on past them, but 
his horse refused to go. 

“ Hallo ! Who is this ?” 

It was this call from one of the strangers that had 
led the knight’s horse to stop, and an application of 
the spur only caused him to rear and plunge. 

“ Who are you ?” 

When our hero found that his beast would not be 
urged on, he replied to the summons : 

“ I am from Como, and I am in haste, too.” 

“ And who are you when in Como ?” 

A poor peasant, as you may see.” 

“ A sharp spur you wear for a peasant,” 


Companions on the Road. 


191 


'' I arm my heels as I please, sirs. Will you let 
me pass ?” 

At that moment the moon, which was close down 
upon the horison, looked out from behind the flying 
clouds, and Orlando saw that his opponents were 
armed banditti. But the moon had not favored him 
alone with clearer vision. The robbers, even, had 
the advantage, for while their backs were towards 
the gleaming orb, he was facing it. 

“ Ha, ha, my master !” cried one of them. 

“ What now, villains 

“Sir Orlando Vendorme — we have been waiting 
for you !” 

Our hero drew his sword, and as the robbers 
gathered about him he sought to defend himself ; 
but his horse was not used to such work. The 
animal reared and plunged again, and refused to 
come near to the armed villains. Now, perhaps the 
restive beast might be urged forward, and make 
recompense by his speed for his shortcomings. 
Vendorme shortened the rein, and plied the spur ; 
but he was doomed to disappointment ; for one of 
the robbers, who had quietly dismounted, glided up 
and plunged a javelin deep behind the horse’s 
shoulder. Our hero saw the act, and as his animal 
staggered under him, he sought to leap from the 
saddle. He cleared his right foot from the stirrup ; 
but, unfortunately, the skirt of his peasant’s frock 
had been pinned to the horse’s side by the javelin, 
and when he left his seat he was dangling beneath 
the beast’s belly ; and, in a moment more the ani- 
mal fell, crushing him helpless upon the earth. 


192 


The Outcast of Milan. 


“ By the mass,” cried one of the robbers, I didn’t 
think we'd capture him so easily.” 

‘‘ He’s fast sure enough,” responded another. 

It was now Orlando’s turn to speak, and he used 
his speech in begging for help. The dead horse was 
resting upon his legs in such a way as to give him 
most exquisite torture, and he involuntarily groaned 
for assistance. Three of the robbers pulled the 
horse away, while the other three stood ready to 
secure the prisoner, which they did without much 
difficulty ; for the youth was so racked with pain 
that he had no thought of resistance. In fact, 
before he fairly realized that .the torturing weight 
had been removed from his limbs, he had been 
rolled over upon his breast, and his arms drawn up 
and lashed behind him. In a little while afterwards, 
he Jwas raised to a sitting posture, and asked if he 
could stand. 

“ Not yet,” he replied. He gazed around upon 
his captors, and finally asked what they meant. 

“ We mean enough !” returned the leader. “ We 
haven’t forgotten the kindly turn you did us when 
we fell upon the Saxon knights ! Have you forgot- 
ten that, my master ?” 

“ No — I remember it very well, but I do not believe 
that is all you have against me. You are not the 
men to take such trouble for simple revenge. I 
know you better.” 

“ By our lady you are right, Vendorme. But 
enough of that. You are our prisoner, and you 
won’t find it easy to escape us. We have been look- 
ing for you. We saw you cross the river this morn- 


Companions on the Road, 


193 


ing, and go into the village with Marco Pazzoli, and 
we believed you would start for Milan before the 
night was past. But my bold knight, we did not 
count upon so cheap a victory. We expected some 
hard knocks, and were prepared to sell one or two 
lives for the reward — ” 

“ Speak on. What reward .?’* 

Never mind.” 

“ You have said enough,” cried Vendorme. “ I 
know very well who is your master.” 

“ Be careful and not know too much. And now. 
Sir Champion, if you think you can sit upon a horse, 
we’ll be moving.” 

“ Whither ?” 

“ You shall find that out in due time. Only let me 
say this ; you’ll fare best if you are quiet.^’ 

The prisoner really had no choice otherwise, for 
his hands were secured behind him, and his legs 
were so weak from the strain they had received that 
he could scarcely stand. He was lifted upon the 
back of a horse, the owner of the animal walking by 
his side to hold him on, and thus led away by a 
narrow, dark path, into the wood. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

PRAYER ! 

As the reader must already be aware, the duke of 
Milan, through his captain, had, in his search for the 
princess, had recourse to the robbers. The outlaws 
had been set upon the track of the fugitives and a 
large reward promised them in case of success. One 
of their number, named Juan Toletti, who acted in the 
capacity of a spy, had, by some means, become 
assured that the princess had taken refuge some- 
where upon the mountains, and, in the garb of a 
hunter, he made search in that direction. He had 
seen Marco Pazzoli ascend with provisions, and thus 
he gained a clue to the path, judging that the moun- 
taineer must be carrying food to some one who dared 
not come down after it. With this clue he made his 
way up among the cliffs, and as he sat resting him- 
self after a wearying tramp, he heard voices which 
seemed to sound from some point below him. He 
started up and moved forward, and while in the act 
of bending over a projecting point of rock he lost his 
hold and fell — fell, stunned and senseless, at the feet 
of the very lady of whom he was in search. How he 



Prayer ! 


195 


was taken into the cave and nursed, and how he left, 
we have already seen. 

As the spy made his way from the cavern, he was 
very careful to note the landmarks that should guide 
him on his return, and when he reached the foot of 
the mountain, he was not long in finding three of his 
companions, to whom he related what he had dis- 
covered. As it was then very near nightfall, they 
concluded not to search for any more of their num- 
ber, but ascend to the cavern and try their luck as they 
were. Toletti went ahead with a lantern and suc- 
ceeded in retracing his steps to the cave, and when 
they reached the entrance they stopped for consul- 
tation. 

“I know where the females sleep,” said the spy, 
“for I noticed in which direction they went when 
they put away their garments, and I think if we are 
careful we can gag them, and get them away with- 
out noise. As for Vendorme, I suppose he is in the 
cave, but I know not if he has any male companion.” 

After some deliberation it was decided that Ven- 
dorme should not be troubled if it could be avoided, 
as the two females might be as much of a capture as 
they could surely and safely make in that place. 

As he had promised, Toletti led the way to the 
apartment where the girls slept, and by careful man- 
agement they were so effectually smothered before 
they awoke, that they could give no immediate alarm, 
and thus were they borne away from the cavern, and 
led down the mountain, the gags being kept upon 
their mouths until they had got very near to the 
river, where horses were in waiting. As soon as. 


196 


The Outcast of Milan, 


Rosabel could speak she begged for mercy, but the 
robbers would not listen to her. One of the villains, 
however, more bold than the rest, whispered into her 
ear that if she would go with him he would save her 
from the clutches of the duke. She turned eagerly 
towards him to find out what he meant. He meant 
that she should go with him and be his, and he was 
beginning to swear eternal fidelity and love, when 
she turned from him in disgust and horror. She 
asked no more favors at the hands of the robbers, 
but suffered herself to be lifted to a saddle, in 
which condition she was borne away towards Milan, 
and early in the following day she was lodged in her 
own apartments in the ducal palace, Hippolita still 
bearing her company. But the companions were 
not to remain long together. At noon a messenger 
came from Hugh de Castro and led Hippolita away, 
conducting her back to the dwelling of her master, 
where she was confined in a close apartment, with an 
old black woman to keep watch over her. Towards 
evening de Castro came, and when he stood before 
her he struck her on the cheek with his hand. 

“ Strike me again," she said, turning the other 
cheek to him. 

“ Are you so fond of being struck ?" asked her 
master. 

“ Blows are what I expect, sir," she replied. 

“And they are what you deserve. But tell me — 
how did you escape from the city ?" 

“ I rode out upon a horse, sir." 

“ And Orlando Vendorme was with you ?" 

“ He was/' 


Prayer / 


197 


“And you set him free from his dungeon ?” 

“I did.” 

“ What induced you to do such a thing ?” 

“That I might make some atonement for a griev- 
ous wrong which I had helped to do. When I led 
Vendorme to that dungeon, I did not dream of the 
horrible doom that awaited him. Had you told me 
that, no power could have induced me to help you. 
I helped you ignorantly, but I was not ignorant 
when I helped the sufferer.” 

“ Upon my soul, girl, you are frank.” 

“ I can afford to be so.” 

“ Then *be as frank in answering me further. 
Where is Orlando Vendorme ?” 

“ I cannot tell you, sir.” 

“ You mean — you will not.” 

“ Put it as you please.” 

“ Girl, if you do not answer me as I wish, you 
shall rue it. Now tell me — where did you leave 
Vendorme ?” 

“ Once for all, sir,” replied the girl, with heroic 
calmness, “ I will not speak one word which can put 
the safety of Orlando Vendorme in jeopardy. 
Where he is now I cannot tell you, for I do not 
know. But that I may not be misunderstood, I tell 
you frankly — if I did know, I would not tell you.” 

De Castro clenched his fist, and struck the girl to 
the floor. 

“Lay there, insolent wench !” he muttered, “and 
when I come again you will learn to answer me with 
more propriety. I do not leave you now because 
you have conquered, but because I have not the 


198 


The Outcast of Milan. 


time to waste with you.” Thus speaking he left the 
room, closing and locking the door after him. 

It was well into the evening, and Rosabel of Ber- 
gamo had slept several hours. She arose, and found 
a woman in attendance upon her. It was not one of 
her own women, but a servant whom the princess 
had seen at work in the garden. 

“Why are you here?” Rosabel asked, when she 
recollected where she was, and what had traspired. 

“I am here to wait upon you,” was the reply, 
delivered in a rough, impudent way. 

“ And I suppose you are also here to keep guard 
over me ?” 

“ No. There are soldiers in the passage who do 
that. But I can get supper for you, if you want 
it.” 

“I want nothing to eat. You may bring me 
some drink.” 

The woman brought the drink, and Rosabel 
then told her she might retire. 

“ I cannot do it, ladv. I am ordered to remain in 
the room with you.” 

The princess was offended, but she had too much 
sense of pride to show any resentment, so she with- 
drew to a window which overlooked one of the gar- 
dens, and sat down. She had not been thus seated 
many minutes before the door was opened, and the 
duke made his appearance. The attendant was dis- 
missed and Manfred then turned to his ward, whom 
he regarded for some little time in silence. 

“ Well,” he at length said, biting off the word as 


pf 


ayer / 


199 


though language were insufficient to express his 
feelings. “ So you are back again." 

The princess bowed her head, and made no reply. 
She had determined upon the course she would 
pursue, and she sought the strength that might 
enable her to bear up. 

“ Did you think to escape me, Rosabel ? Answer 
me. 

“ I hoped to escape, sir," she replied, looking up 
into his face. 

“ And whither had you planned to go ?" 

“Anywhere, so that I might be free from thy 
tyranny." 

“ Ho, ho, you are there, are you. You had no 
plan, I suppose ! You had no lover with you !" 

“ I had a friend with me, sir." 

“Yes, yes — and where did you leave that friend ?" 

“ Where I hope he will be safe from the powers 
that are at work against him." 

“ Did you leave him in the place whence you were 
taken ?" 

“Send your robber minions back and let them 
search." 

Manfred started angrily, and he seemed ready'to 
smite the maiden with his fist. 

“ No, no," he said, “ you shall not move me from 
my propriety. You are crazy, you are an idiot, you 
are a fool ! But, my fair lady, let me tell you that 
men have been sent back after your gallant champion, 
and let me assure you that he will be taken, too, 
and when he is taken, he will be amply rewarded 
for the pains he has expended on your account. 


^OO The Outcast of Milan, 


Perhaps you can imagine what the character of that 
reward will be." 

A sense of faintness overcame the princess for a 
moment. She could understand what would be 
Vendorme’s fate if he fell into the tyrant’s power, 
and the thought was terrible. But she struggled 
up from the blow, and looked the duke once more 
in the face. 

“ I know what your disposition is," she said ; “ and 
I can imagine all the threats you would make ; so you 
can spare me the pain of hearing them." 

“Very well. Enough, then, of Vendorme until I 
can tell you exactly what has become of him. And 
now to another matter. I propose to have you 
married as soon as possible. It should be done this 
very night, but for my own convenience I must put 
it off until the day after to-morrow, when you will 
give your hand to Ludovico. Do you think you can 
escape this time ?" 

“ Before God, the wife of Ludovico I never will 
be !" Rosabel spoke slowly and emphatically. 

“ The wife of Ludovico you must be," retorted 
the duke, with equal emphasis. 

“I have said my say, Duke of Milan ; and you 
may now do your worst. Let come what may, I 
will never give a wife’s pledge to your son." 

“ What care I for your pledge ! One is coming to 
help me whose power is above all pledges ; and it 
is for his presence that I wait." 

The princess raised her eyes to the face of her 
guardian, and as he read the meaning of her look, 
he added : 


Prayer / 


20T 


“ I wait for his holiness, the Pope of Rome, who 
will be here at the time I have mentioned.” 

“ O,” cried Rosabel, disguising none of the bitter- 
ness of her feeling, “you may bring him, and he 
may pronounce the false vows if he will. I shall not 
repeat them. You may so far make me a wife as to 
lay hands upon my estates of Bergamo ; but in 
my soul a wife to Ludovico no power of earth can 
ever make me.” 

“ Beware, girl !” said the duke, pressing his hand 
upon her shoulder. “ You know not what you say. 
If you give not your soul to this marriage, you give 
it to perdition.” 

“ Yes ; and I say it again,” cried the princess, 
whose feelings were now aroused. “ Death is but 
death — and death is preferable to the fate you would 
impose upon me. And after death I will lay me in 
the arms of my Saviour, and trust to his redeeming 
love.” 

She was upon her knees, with her clasped hands 
raised towards Heaven ; and a prayer fell from her 
lips, as she bowed her head till the dark tresses 
floated over her face. Once, while she had been 
speaking, the duke had started forward as though 
he would strike her ; but when she sank upon her 
knees, and her voice broke into that impassioned 
prayer, he stopped and trembled. 

“ Bah !” he uttered, stamping his foot ; “ you are 
crazy ! But I am glad you have spoken so frankly, 
even in your madness, for now I shall know how to 
govern myself. The marriage will come off, as I 
have said ; and you are at liberty to make as much 


202 


The Outcast of Milan, 


trouble for yourself as you please. Only let me give 
you a gentle hint : You should know the disposi- 
tion of Ludovico, and be thus aware of the pains you 
must suffer if he has more occasion to be angry 
with you,” 

When Manfred had thus spoken, he turned from 
the apartment, and shortly afterwards the old 
woman entered and resumed her watch. 

Rosabel might have wept if she had been alone ; 
but she would not shed tears in the presence of the 
unsympathizing sentinel. She retired to her inner 
chamber, where she soon sought her couch ; and as 
she rested her head upon her pillow, she offered up 
new prayers to Heaven. She prayed that God 
would have mercy upon her ; but a more fervent 
prayer was breathed for Orlando Vendorme. 


CHAPTER XVIH. 

THE BLOCK. 

Ludovico had not yet seen the princess since her 
return, and he preferred not to do so until the hour 
for the marriage ceremony arrived. 

“ If I should see her, it might only make trouble 
for me,” he said, as he conversed with his father on 
the day following her arrival. “ At all events, it 
could do no good.” 

“You are right, my son,” replied the duke. 
“ Since matters are arranged so safely for us, it is 


The Block. 


203 


not worth while to trouble the girl unnecessarily. 
By this marriage, we will add Bergamo to our 
dominions, which, with the friendship of the Consul 
of Rome, will make our house the most powerful in 
Lombardy. And, my boy, if Alfonso of Modena is 
not very witty — more witty than I think he will be 
— he shall fall beneath us.” 

“ But are you sure of the aid of the Roman Con- 
sul ?” asked Ludovico. 

“Yes,” said Manfred, rubbing his hands with 
evident satisfaction. “Crescentius and the Pope are 
both with me ; and their influence cannot be well 
overcome. His Holiness will be here to-morrow, 
and will, in person, solemnize your marriage.” 

Upon this Ludovico rubbed his hands, and 
declared that things were working better than he 
had even dared to hope. He had just spoken to this 
effect, when Hugh de Castro entered the apartment. 

“ How now, my captain ?” cried the duke. “ What 
brings you in such haste ?” 

“There is a messenger without, my lord, who 
would speak with you.” 

“ Who is he ?” 

De Castro cast his eyes over the apartment. 

“ We are alone,” said Manfred. 

“ The man is named Pietro Bonzo. He is one of 
the robbers.” 

“ Does he bring us news of Vendorme ?” 

“Yes.” 

“ Then let him come in.” 

In a very few moments de Castro introduced the 
robber into the ducal presence. He was habited in 


204 


The Outcast of Milan, 


the garb of a peasant, but his face told well enough 
what he was. 

“ Well, sir," said Manfred, not at all shocked by 
the association, “ what word do you bring ?" 

“My lord duke," replied the outlaw, bowing very 
slightly as he spoke, “ a reward was offered to us on 
condition that we would find Rosabel of Bergamo, 
and restore her to your keeping ; and another 
reward was offered for the capture of Orlando Ven- 
dorme. The lady has been restored to you. And, 
furthermore, Vendorme has been taken ; but, as 
we were not directed to bring him hither, we have 
secured him, and are ready to produce him when it 
may so please you." 

“ So works the matter still in our favor," cried 
Manfred, clapping his hands exultingly. “ With this 
fellow secure we are safe from further trouble. 
Where is the knight ?" 

“ He is in a quiet nook, my lord, not many leagues 
away. I can bring him to you by the rising of 
another sun." 

“ I think," remarked the duke, turning to his cap- 
tain, “ that we do not want the fellow here." 

De Castro nodded in approval of the suggestion. 

“Ido not see," continued his highness, “what 
need there is of having much more trouble with 
him." 

The captain nodded again. 

“ If I am not mistaken, sir," the duke said, 
addressing the robber, “you do not love your pris- 
oner much." 

“ We owe him nothing but vengeance, my lord." 


The Block, 


205 


“ Then you may earn your reward easily. You 
can act the peasant, and I will give orders to the 
guard to allow you to pass with fruit for the palace. 
You can bring the fruit in panniers, can you not?” 

“Yes, my lord.” 

“ And in a pannier, covered with citron leaves, 
you can bring me the head of Orlando Vendorme ?” 

“Yes.” 

“ Mind — I want only the head. I want it brought 
secretly and punctually. I would behold it with 
my own eyes.” 

“ And so would I,” added Ludovico, with a gesture 
of mad delight. “ I would give more to see the 
unbodied head of Orlando Vendorme than I would 
to see the emperor at my feet.” 

“ It is a safe and righteous decision,” said de 
Castro. 

“ Aye,” resumed the duke, “ it shall be so. How 
is it, Pietro Bonza — shall it be done ?” 

“ Yes, my lord.” 

“ And there shall be no mistake — no failure ?” 

“ There can be none, your highness. The pris- 
oner is bound, and his keepers only await my 
return.” 

“ Then bring me his head as quickly as you can.” 

“ You shall have it to-morrow.” 

“ At what time ?” 

“ As early as possible. I said that I could bring 
the prisoner hither alive by the rising of the sun ; 
but if I must find fruit, and prepare panniers, it may 
take some time longer. But it shall be sometime 
to-morrow.” 


2o 6 The Outcast of Milan. 


“ Remember — when the head is delivered, a hun- 
dred golden sequins are yours." 

“ There shall be no failure," replied the robber 
emphatically. 

When Pietro Bonza was dismissed from the ducal 
presence, he made his way out from the city as 
quickly as possible, and started upon his return mis- 
sion. He stopped at Monza to transact a little busi- 
ness with one of the robber agents, and just as the 
sun was sinking he reached the place where he had 
left his companions with their prisoner. He found 
one of the band there, but no more. 

“ How is this, Bernardo ? Where are our com- 
panions ?" 

“ They have gone further north, Master Pietro ; 
and I was left to give you intelligence, and also to 
guide you after them." 

“ But why is this ?" 

“ It is for a matter of safety. Not long after the 
sun was up this morning we got news that a large 
party of troops were on our track, and as we lay so 
near to their route, our captain thought it best to 
move. He has gone towards Como." 

“Troops!" cried Pietro, in surprise. “What 
troops can be here at this time ?" 

“ I don’t know," replied Bernardo. “ I didn’t see 
them. They were stout rascals, our informant said, 
and led by doughty knights. They may have been 
Milanese." 

“ I don’t think so, Bernardo." 

“ Why not ?’’ 

“Because I have just come from Milan, and none 


The Bloch 


207 


of the troops are absent from that city. More likely 
they were from the north. But is it known that they 
were after us ?” 

“ It is known that they had been making inquiries 
about us, and that they were coming directly towards 
us. However, I have not seen them yet, and I know 
not where they are. In all probability they have 
pushed on to the south.” 

“ Not by the road to Milan,” said Pietro, “ or I 
should have met them.” 

“ Well, it makes no difference. They have gone 
somewhere ; and we may as well follow on after our 
companions.” 

“ You are right, Bernardo.” 

“ Unless,” said Bernardo, “ you have some other 
plan.” 

“ What other plan can I have ?” 

“ I don’t know. I suppose you have seen the Duke 
of Milan ?” 

“Yes.” 

“ Well — I thought, if he had paid you the reward — ” 

“ Ha, ha ! you are witty, Bernardo. If I had a 
hundred golden sequins, you fancy that you and I 
might find use for it, eh ?” 

“I didn’t say so.” 

“ I know — but I think you meant it. However, I 
haven’t got them ; so we have nothing to do but to 
draw our reins, and find our captain.” 

It was nearly dark when the two robbers set out, 
and as the path was a narrow and dubious one, they 
were forced to move slowly. They found their com- 


208 


The Outcast of Milan, 


panions in a deep wood near the hills of Cantu, and 
when they had dismounted and secured their horses, 
it was almost morning. 

By a large rock, where a mass of vines were woven 
almost to the form of a tent, lay Orlando Vendorme 
bound hand and foot, with a sentinel keeping watch 
over him. As the first beams of morning struggled 
in through the thick foliage, he awoke from a 
troubled slumber, and asked the guard to loosen the 
bond upon his arm. 

But the fellow would not do it. 

“ My chieftain gave me no such orders,” he said. 
“ Wait till he comes.” 

“ Will you not call him ? Tell him, if he means to 
kill me, he should do it at once, and not rack me 
thus.” 

“ Hold — here he comes. Now you can ask him.” 

A dark-visaged, powerfully framed man, wearing 
an ostrich plume in his velvet cap, approached the 
spot where the prisoner sat. This was Lanzilla, the 
chief of the robbers. He had, in former years, been 
a knight of Mantua ; but a great crime had subjected 
him to the loss of his spurs ; and, seeking the Alpine 
banditti, he had joined their number, and finally 
risen to be their leader. He stood by the pris- 
oner’s side, and looked down into his pain-marked 
face. 

“ Orlando Vendorme,” he said, “do you remember 
when you were first banished from Milan, that you 
met me by the bank of the Saveso ?” 

“Yes,” replied our hero; “I remember it very 
well.” 


The Block. 


209 


“ And do you remember the propo^sition I then 
made to you ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ If you had accepted it, you would not have been 
where you now are.” 

“ Perhaps not.” 

“ No, — you would have been a free and indepen- 
dent man, owing allegiance to no earthly monarch ; 
and only governed by a chief of your own choice. 
But your choice was not with us. Perhaps you 
remember the next time you met me ?” 

“Yes,” said Orlando. “I helped a party of gen- 
tlemen whom you had attacked ; and I suppose you 
now intend to have ample revenge.” 

“ Ah,” returned Lanzilla, shaking his head slowly 
from side to side, “ I don’t know how that may be. 
If you were left wholly at my disposal, I think I 
should offer you once more an opportunity to join 
us.” 

“ You would offer in vain.” 

“ Then you are the greater fool. I tell you, Master 
Vendorme, the time is not far distant when our free 
band will be able to shake the petty thrones of Lom- 
bardy. However, you need not fret yourself with 
the idea of loss, for I could not make you the offer 
if I would. You are not my prisoner.” 

“ Whose am I, then ?” 

“ Perhaps I speak a little wide of the mark, sii 
knight. You are my prisoner, but not held for my 
use. I hold you for the present ; but I hold you 
subject to the orders of another.” 


210 


The Outcast of Milan, 


Subject to the orders of the tyrant of Milan, is 

it ?” 

“ If you will have it so — yes." 

“And will you conduct me to him ?" 

“ Not yet." 

“What will you do ?" 

“ Ere long you shall see." 

“ One word, sir," cried the captive, as Lanzilla 
turned to move away. “ Will you not loosen the 
bond upon my arms ?" 

“Yes, — but not now !" 

What did he mean Why did he answer so 
abruptly, and stride away so suddenly ? What was 
to be done ? Orlando turned to a man who stood 
near, and asked him which way they meant to move. 
The man looked at him, and shook his head, vouch- 
safing no other answer. 

In a little while the robber chieftain returned, 
accompanied by two of his companions. He looked 
more stern than before, and upon his brow there 
was a dark scowl. 

“ Orlando Vendorme," he said, “ I had thought of 
sending you 3^our way without giving you any 
notice thereof ; but my companions have overruled 
me. For my part, I forgive you for the work you 
once did against us ; but not so with the others. 
My lieutenant leads in the determination to make 
you suffer." 

“ Aye," interposed a stout, dark-visaged man, 
moving forward as he spoke, “ I have not forgotten 
that my own brother fell by this fellow’s hands. I 
am not so forgiving.” 


The Block, 


21 1 


“ Nor I,” added another of the robbers. “ This 
man struck us without provocation. We had never 
harmed him. He smote down the dearest friend I 
ever had.” 

“ You see,” said Lanzilla, “ what the feeling is.” 

“ Aye,” replied our hero, “ I see it very plainly ; 
but you have not told me what is to be my fate.” 

“Your fate is — death !” 

Vendorme was startled with horror. Such a 
thought had floated through his mind, but he had 
not given it reflection. He looked around upon the 
dark, stern faces of those who gathered about him, 
and he saw little there of sympathy. 

“ Do you mean that you will murder me ?” he 
asked. 

“ No,” replied the chieftain ; “ we have no such 
thought. We are to execute you. It is the order of 
the Duke of Milan that you die, and I am to send 
your head to him. This it was which I did not 
mean to tell you ; but my men were clamorous to 
see you suffer. Had the matter been left for me to 
carry out at will, I would have put you to rest with the 
prick of a javelin, and saved you all contemplation 
of your doom. Still, sir, I can grant you one favor : 
You may choose in what manner you will die.” 

“ In the name of that honor which is the part of 
every brave man,” cried Orlando, “I appeal to 
you — ” 

“ Stop,” said the robber, with a wave of the hand; 
“ don't misunderstand me. I have nothing whatever 
to do with your death, or with your life. I did not 
capture you, nor am I responsible. You were taken 


212 


The Outcast of Milan. 


by my companions — tiiey took you by order of the 
duke — and by order of the duke you are to die I 
tell you this so that you shall not carry out of the 
world with you the thought that Lanzilla sought 
such revenge. I make no secrets, because you can- 
not bear tales from here. Now speak, if you have a 
choice. How will you die ?” 

The bound knight looked around once more, but 
he saw no friend. All within the gloom of the deep 
wood — the gaze of the robbers ; the heavy shadows; 
the gnarled and twisted trunks of the great old 
trees ; the sighing wind ; all seemed to bear to him 
record of his doom. 

“ I have no choice,” he said. 

“ Reflect.” 

“ There is no need of reflection. An expression 
of choice would be a recognition of my fate. I have 
no hand in it. If I must be murdered to satisfy the 
demand of a base tyrant, he who does the coward 
deed may have the choice of means.” 

“ Then,” resumed the chieftain, I will myself 
give the decision. The blow that takes your life 
shall give us your head.” 

As Lanzilla turned towards his lieutenant, appar- 
ently to give some order touching the execution, the 
robbers were startled by the footfall of a horse ; and 
presently a stranger rode up to the spot where the 
band had been encamped. A messenger was dis- 
patched to ascertain who the intruder was, and 
when he returned he reported that Marco Pazzoli 
sought the missing knight. 

” It is the hunter, is it ?” said Lanzilla. 


Guests Who Were Not hivited. 213 


“ Yes.” 

“ The one who led the princess to the cavern ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Is he alone ?” 

“ Yes.” 

Then go and secure him. Bind him hand and 
foot, and if he makes any disturbance, gag him, — 
choke him, if need be.” 

Four of the robbers went to execute this com- 
mand, and when their work had been done, Lanzilla 
turned once more to his lieutenant. 

“You have a stout arm, and a sharp sword.” 

“ Yes,” was the answer. 

“ And you will strike for the duke ?” 

“ Aye, and for vengeance, too !” 

“Then bring the block. This work shall be quickly 
done ; and then we’ll send to Manfred of Milan his 
pannier of fruit ! He will not get it so soon as it 
was promised ; but it may be none the less accepta- 
ble for that.” 


CHAPTER XIX. 

* GUESTS WHO WERE NOT INVITED. 

Rosabel of Bergamo could find no means of 
escape from the fate which had been pronounced by 
her guardian. She had exhausted every resource of 
thought and invention without effect. The day had 


2 14 The Outcast of Milan, 


come which had been appointed, and she was at the 
mercy of the tyrant. All night she had been awake, 
meditating upon her fearful doom ; and with the 
light of morning she threw herself upon her couch, 
resolved to bear up as best she could. She had 
prayed to Heaven for strength, and she believed she 
had received it — strength to support her through 
the coming ordeal, and strength to give her passage 
from the danger beyond. She might be called the 
wife of Ludovico — she could see no way to avoid it ; 
but she hoped that she might never prove false to 
her true love. 

She lay thus upon her couch, with her face buried 
in her hands, when the duke was announced. 

“Let him come in," she said ; and she arose and 
met him in the chamber. 

“ How is this ?" he demanded, when he saw her 
pale face and her dishevelled hair. “Are you think- 
ing of escape ?" 

“No, my lord — not of escape by force of my 
own. If my. prayers cannot move you, I have no 
hope." 

“ Bah ! We have had enough of that. His Holi- 
ness is here, and all is ready for the marriage. You 
must join us as soon as you can. And, lady, 
remember this : No failure on your part can 
delay these services. Should you faint, even, and 
sink upon your bed, the work should be done never- 
theless." 

“ I understand you, sir," replied the princess, 
standing erect, and speaking with much resolution. 
“ I shall not seek to make myself more uncomfortable 


Guests Who Were Not Invited. 215 


than you have already planned. I am not blind 
enough to suppose that the famished wolf can be 
driven from his prey by the timid, helpless lamb. I 
know that you seek to unite the houses of Bergamo 
and Milan — that you are determined to possess for 
your son the wealth and power thus gained ; and as 
it can only come to you by my hand, I know that I 
must surrender. I am ready, sir ; and I only ask 
that you will cause the ceremonies to be as brief as 
possible.” 

The duke exhibited no anger at the maiden’s 
freedom of speech. He was rather pleased than 
otherwise by her surrender. 

“ Can you be ready in half an hour ?” he asked. 

“ If Blanche can come and help me.” 

Manfred promised to send the girl ; and shortly 
after he withdrew she came. 

“ My dear lady,” Blanche said, with tears in her 
eyes, “ I cannot help you. We are watched upon all 
hands, and — ” 

“ Stop,” interrupted the princess. “ I only wish 
you to help me dress. The time for other help is 
gone. But I would ask you one question : Do you 
know if anything has been heard from Orlando 
Vendorme ?” 

“ I have heard nothing.” 

“ That is all. You may bring my dress now.” 

The girl proceeded with her work in silence, and 
when her mistress was arrayed in her bridal robes 
she stood back and wiped her eyes. 

“I wish to be alone a moment, Blanche.” 

The attendant withdrew to the bed-room, and then 


The Outcast of Milan, 


2 i6 


Rosabel went to her dressing-case, and took from a 
secret drawer the little dagger which Vendorme had 
given to her. 

“ This may be my last friend of earth !” she mur- 
mured, as she gazed upon tile sharp, glittering point. 
The wicked prince of Milan shall never know Rosabel 
as a wife — never !” 

She hid the dagger in her bosom, and not long 
afterwards a messenger arrived from the duke. 

John XVII., the Pope of Rome, stood by the 
duke’s side in the apartment where it had been 
arranged that the marriage ceremony should be per- 
formed. 

“ Ha, ha,” said Manfred, as the sound of distant 
tumult fell upon his ear, “ my people are already 
making merry on the occasion. They shall have a 
glorious time of it when the marriage is over.” 

“ You have made arrangement for sports, then ?” 

“ No, the prince has made them. I have thought 
best that Ludovico should please the people this 
time.” 

“A wise thought,” said the Pope. “ It is well to 
keep them busy with something. Ah — here comes 
the prince.” 

Ludovico, accompanied by Hugh de Castro and 
several other officers of the ducal household, entered 
the apartment, and were presented to His Holiness. 

In a little while, by another door, entered Rosabel 
of Bergamo with two attendants. The duke 
approached her and introduced the Pope. 


Guests Who Were Not Invited, 217 


“ Rosabel, this is our holy father, John.” 

From an impulse of her nature, regarding the 
papal office as something holy and worshipful, she 
bowed her head down, and crossed her arms upon 
her bosom. The Pope placed his hand upon her, 
and uttered a blessing, after which he said : 

“ My daughter, it gives me joy to greet you; and 
you will allow me to congratulate you upon the bright 
prospect that opens before you.” 

“ I think we are ready,” said Manfred. 

“ All ready,” replied Ludovico, at the same time 
advancing and taking the princess by the hand. 
He was startled when he found how cold her hand 
was, but he made no remark upon it. 

The herald made proclamation to the effect that 
Rosabel of Bergamo was to be united in marriage 
to Ludovico of Milan. He did not ask if any were 
present who could give a just reason why the mar- 
riage should not take place, but in the stead thereof, 
he said: 

“ And to this union the Pope of Rome hath given 
holy sanction, so let no man object, neither now, 
nor hereafter !” 

The Pope now advanced to where the couple 
stood, and in a very few moments he had pronounced 
them man and wife. Rosabel had not opened her 
lips. The usual questions were asked, but her 
silence was not heeded. Willing, or unwilling, she 
was given to Ludovico, and the papal-benediction 
Was pronounced upon the union ! 

“ Keep her not here,” whispered the prince, turn- 
ing to one of the female attendants. “ Convey her 


2 1 8 The Outcast of Milan, 


to her apartments as quickly as possible.” He saw 
that she was very weak, and he feared that she might 
faint in the presence of the witnesses. 

But Rosabel did not faint there. With a firm 
step she walked from the room, her right hand 
clutching something that she carried in her bosom. 

“ Now,” cried the duke, clapping his hands, “ the 
work is done ! Ha — and the people are shouting 
again. They know that the time hath arrived. De 
Castro, let proclamation be made from the towers 
that the prince is married !” 

“ It seems to me, my lord, that the rascals are 
taking some liberty,” said the captain, as a furious 
shout rent the air. 

“ Aye,” added Ludovico, clenching his fist, “ and 
they seem to be crowding into the palace. Did you 
invite them to the marriage feast ?” 

“ No,” returned Manfred. “ I have left all that for 
you to do.” 

“ But they are coming. Hark ! they are even now 
upon the stairs.” 

“ De Castro,” ordered the duke, stamping his foot 
impatiently, “ go and drive the villains back !” 

The captain turned to obey the command, but ere 
he had taken many steps, the large door was thrown 
open, and a score of armed knights came tramping 
into the apartment. 

“ How now !” exclaimed the duke, quivering from 
head to foot. He was angry, and he was frightened, 
too. 

The first to advance and speak was the Saxon 
knight, Frederic Von Brunt. 


Guests Who Were Not Invited, 219 

“ Manfred of Milan,” he said, striking his mailed 
hand upon his hip, “ we have come to set free a 
prisoner.” 

“ Insolent !” cried Ludovico, turning pale with 
rage. 

“ Nevertheless,” resumed Von Brunt, “ our work 
must be done. We demand the person of — ” 

“ I have him not,” said the duke, speaking before 
his time. 

“ Have not whom ?” 

“That dog of a Vendorme. You will have to 
seek elsewhere for him.” 

“Ah, my lord duke, you anticipate too much,” 
replied the stout Saxon, with a smile. “ It is not of 
Orlando Vendorme that we are now in search. I 
think, however, that you have been expecting some 
slight return from the person of that gallant 
champion. Is it not so T' 

“ It matters not what I have expected,” answered 
Manfred, clutching nervously at his sword-hilt. 

“Never mind,” continued Von Brunt. “When 
you hear from Vendorme, the message will not come 
as you have been expecting. But now another 
person is meant. We demand of you Rosabel of 
Bergamo.” 

“Death and perdition,” yelled the duke, stamping 
his foot till the very walls rang, “am I to be bearded 
thus ? What means this outrageous intrusion ? De 
Castro, call in my guard ! Bid my men-at-arms 
attend me here ! I’ll teach these dogs a lesson !” 

“ Easy, my lord duke,” said the Saxon, unsheath- 
ing his sword as he spoke, “ You see we have the 


2 20 


The Outcast of Milan, 


advantage here. Your captain cannot move, save 
at our pleasure.” 

“ Frederic Von Brunt speaks truly,” spoke another 
of the knights, advancing from his companions. 

“ Alfonso of Modena, is it you ?” 

“ Yes, Manfred,” replied the count. 

“ Then,” cried the duke, moving back a step, “ to 
perdition whith the whole of you ! Down, down, 
base men — down upon your knees ! You are in the 
presence of the Pope !” 

Upon being thus introduced, John XVII. ap- 
proached, and spread out his arms towards the 
intruding knights. 

“Not now,” said Von Brunt, coolly waving the 
pontiff back. “ The presence of the Pope cannot be 
allowed to interfere with the business we have in 
hand.” 

As John moved slowly away, the duke turned and 
whispered to one of his attendants, who immediately 
afterwards slipped out by a side door. Von Brunt 
saw the movement, but he did not see fit to inter- 
fere. 

“ My lord duke,” he said, “ I once more demand 
of you the princess Rosabel. If you do not bring 
her, I shall send for her.” 

“Wait — wait,” replied Manfred. “ You shall have 
your answer soon enough.” 

Just then the attendant, who had gone out by the 
side door but a moment before, returned, pale and 
trembling. 

“ How now, dog ! Where are the guard ?” 
Where are the archers ?” 


Guests Who Were Not Invited. 


221 


“ My lord,” returned the messenger, quivering 
more than before, “ the guard are all under restraint 
and the archers are drawn up under command of 
Michael Totilla, who refuses to obey any order save 
such as shall come from Frederic Von Brunt.” 

“ By the Lord of Lords !” gasped Manfred, clench- 
ing his fists, and stamping upon the floor, “ this is 
some base conspiracy ! I’ll have my guardsmen 
here if I have to cut the cordon with my own sword. 
Stand back, dogs ! Stand back, I say !” 

“ I see we are to have little choice in this matter,” 
said Von Brunt. “ Where is Gaspard ?” 

“ Here, Sir Frederic,” replied the Saxon esquire, 
stepping forward, 

“ Go and call the armorer, and bid him follow you 
with a score of his men.” 

As Gaspard went out, the Saxon knight turned 
again to the duke. 

“ My Lord Duke of Milan, you shall soon be 
answered to your satisfaction. If you think it best 
to try the virtue of your sword, you can have ample 
accommodation, but I would advise you to remain 
quiet.” 

Like a man who moved from some deadly danger 
unseen, did the duke stagger back, and rest the 
point of his sword upon the floor. 

T-wice had Ludovico started to move forward, 
and both times had de Castro caught him by the 
sleeve. 

“ No, no, my lord,” the captain whispered, as he 
drew the prince back the second time. “I would 
not oppose them yet. If they seek the princess — - 


222 


The Outcast of Milan, 


which I imagine is some of Alfonso’s doing — they 
will be thwarted at the very moment when they 
deem their success most sure. Let them do their 
will.” 

The prince stood back, for he could not but see 
that he and his friends were no match for the stout 
knights of Saxony and Modena. 

In a little while Gaspard returned, and with him 
came Michael Totilla, followed by a score of stout 
men-at-arms. 

“Michael,” spoke Von Brunt, moving back apace, 
and waving his hand towards the duke and his com- 
panions, “ secure these gentlemen. They are all 
your prisoners, save him who wears the vestments of 
the Pope.” 

At first both Manfred and Ludovico prepared for 
resistance, but when they saw how useless such 
demonstration must be, they surrendered, though 
with ill grace, and with many bitter curses. 

When this had been done, Von Brunt turned 
again to the esquire, who presently introduced into 
the apartment Hippolita and Cinthia. When de 
Castro saw his bondwoman with the wife of the 
armorer, he broke out into a muttering of curses, 
but no attention was paid to him. 

“ Now,” said Sir Frederic, addressing the women, 
“ we will have the princess. Do you find her and 
bring her hither.” 

“By the fiends of darkness !” exclaimed Ludovico, 
“ I think I have a right here !” 

He would have spoken farther, but de Castro, 
plucked him. again, by the sleeve. 


Conclusion, 


223 


“ Keep quiet, my lord,” the captain whispered. 
“ Let them bring her if they will. They are only 
working to their own disappointment. When they 
have her here they shall find that she is your wife, 
made so by the Pope himself.” 

The prince stood back, and Hippolita and Cinthia 
left the apartment. 


CHAPTER XX. 

CONCLUSION. 

Rosabel sat alone in her chamber, still clad in her 
bridal robes ; and in her hand she held the dagger, 
which she had looked upon as her last source of relief 
from the terrible doom which had been pronounced 
upon her. It was a fearful thought — the taking of 
her own life ; but she believed God would pardon 
her for the deed. She sat thus, murmuring a prayer 
to Heaven, when her door was opened ; and upon 
looking up she beheld Hippolita and Cinthia. The 
dagger dropped from her hand, and she started to 
her feet. 

“My dear, dear lady,” cried Hippolita, seizing the 
princess by the hand. “ O, you must suffer no more. 
Come — you must go with us. We have been sent to 
bring you into the presence of friends.” 

“ Merciful Heaven !” gasped Rosabel, leaning upon 
the bondwoman’s shoulder for support, “ what mean 
you ? Who are my friends ?” 


224 


The Outcast of Milan. 


“ Gaspard of Saxony is here,” replied Hippolita ; 
“and Sir Frederick Von Brunt ; and Ludwig Eber- 
hard ; and Alfonso of Modena. Are not they your 
friends ?” 

“ Yes — yes,” said Rosabel, in a deep, startling 
whisper. “But is there another? Is there one 
more ?” 

“ Do you mean Vendorme ?” 

“Yes.” 

“ He is safe, lady. But — what ails you ? Speak 
— what is it ! Are you faint ?” 

“ O ! God have mercy !” the princess groaned 
resting her head upon Hippolita’s bosom. “ O ! my 
poor, poor life ! This is worse than death !” 

“ What — what, lady ? No, no, — you must not fail 
now. Come — come with us ; and all may yet be 
well. They are friends who wish to see you — friends 
who are able to help you.” 

“ No, no,” murmured Rosabel, in tones of deepest 
anguish ; “ for me there is help no more on earth. 
The hour for help is passed. Had you come just 
one hour sooner — one poor, short hour — there might 
have been hope for the power of friendship. But,” 
the princess added, looking up, and trying to stand 
without assistance, “what is this strange thing which 
has happened ?” 

“ I don’t understand it myself,” replied Hippolita ; 
“ but perhaps Cinthia can tell you something about 
it.” 

“ I can tell you thus much,” said the wife of the 
armorer: A little past the hour of noon, while the 
people were waiting for the announcement of your 


Conclusion. 


225 


marriage with the prince, a large cavalcade of 
knights entered the city by the eastern gate. They 
were led by Frederic Von Brunt, who seemed to be 
seconded by the Count of Modena. Whence came 
their wondrous power I know not; but this I do 
know; no sooner had they presented themselves to 
the guards and soldiers than the latter bowed before 
them, and acknowledged their authority; and thus 
the very arms upon which the duke might depend 
for help were turned against him. My husband was 
called upon, and ordered to take command of the 
duke’s archers, subject to the order of Von Brunt; 
and Hippolita and myself were ordered to come 
hither to attend upon the Lady Rosabel. There is 
something very strange, my dear lady — something 
which I cannot explain. But come — I think they 
are waiting for you. Will you not go with us ?” 

“The hour of help is past for me ; but I will go 
with you. I am ready.” And, supported by a dim, 
shapeless possibility of succor, the princess accom- 
panied the messengers from her chamber. 

When the females reached the apartment where 
the ducal party had been left, they found the 
knights anxiously waiting for them. Alfonso of 
Modena stepped quickly forward, and took the 
princess by the hand. 

“ Fair cousin,” he said, “ we have come to help 
you, and I trust that we are not too late. See — I 
think here comes one whom you can trust.” 

As he spoke, the princess looked up and saw, 
advancing from an open door, Orlando Vendorme. 


226 


The Outcast of Milan, 


But she did not move to meet him. She turned to 
Hippolita, and bowed her head upon her shoulder. 

“ O !” she groaned, “ this is dreadful. Let me go 
to my chamber. I am lost ! lost ! lost !” 

Death and condemnation !” gasped the duke, 
when he saw the youthful champion. “ Has this 
dog come back ?” 

“Ah, Manfred of Milan,” said Von Brunt, with a 
mocking sneer, “ you don’t see the head of the gal- 
lant knight in the place where you expected to see 
it. But never mind ; it is much better as it is, and 
if you will listen, I will tell you how it has happened. 
We knights of Saxony, with these noble knights of 
Wirtemberg and of Bavaria, and with the count of 
Modena and his right noble knights, have had busi- 
ness in this section of Lombardy. This morning, 
led by a mountain hunter, we came upon a camp of 
robbers, and were just in season to save the life of 
Sir Orlando. Our guide had gone on in advance, 
and when we arrived we found him bound to a tree, 
while the villains wei;e making ready to cut off the 
head of our noble knight. We were in season, 
thank God ! and Vendorme is safe.” 

“Well, sir, and what of all this?” asked the duke, 
making a powerful effort to stand up like a ruler. 
“You have come in force, and, by some strange 
means gained access to my palace in numbers suffi- 
cient to hold me under restraint for a season, but 
what is it going to benefit you ?” 

“ It may not benefit me at all,” replied Von Brunt. 
“ We have come for the benefit of another. We have 


Conclusion. 


527 


come to release Rosabel of Bergamo from your base 
guardianship.” 

“ And perhaps,” said Manfred, with a sneer, “ you 
meditate bestowing her hand upon Vendorme ?” 

“ It may be so, my lord duke.” 

“ Ha, ha, ha — you are late this time ! You may 
have been in season to snatch Vendorme from the 
hands of those who would have executed a righteous 
sentence upon him, but you are not in season to take 
Rosabel of Bergamo. She has been married, sir ! 
She is the wife of Ludovico !” 

“ But she was married against her will.” 

“ She was married by his holiness the Pope, 
whose edict is sacred above all other earthly things. 
So now, sir knight of Saxony, you have it.” 

“I have said all I have to say,” returned Von 
Brunt, “and I will now introduce one who may speak 
to you with more authority. Gaspard, our master is 
wanted.” 

The esquire went out, and in a few moments 
returned, followed by the fair-haired youth whom 
we have known as Theodore of Hartburg, and with 
him came a man of middle age, whose garb bespoke 
him an officer of holy order. 

“Make way for the Emperor !” said Alfonso of 
Modena, at the same time removing his casque and 
bowing his head, which example was followed by all 
the noble knights. 

“The Emperor !” gasped Manfred, trembling at 
every joint. 

“The Emperor !” echoed John XVII., turning pale 
as death. 


228 


The Outcast of Milan, 


“Yes,” said the smooth-faced youth, standing erect 
before them, and throwing open his doublet, beneath 
which, upon his breast, flashed the imperial star of 
Charlemagne. “I am Otho of Germany. I am he 
who makes and unmakes the princes of Lombardy. 
Aye, and I am more than that, as you shall see anon. 
Base tyrant, thou art no longer duke of Milan. 
When my father gave the scepter into thy hands, he 
hoped thou wouldst have ruled with justice, but 
thou hast not done it, and I cast thee out, and the 
dukedom is no more. To Orlando Vendorme, a 
just and honorable man, I give the government of 
this city and its dependencies, and do create him 
Count of Milan. And furthermore, upon him do I 
bestow the hand of Rosabel of Bergamo.” 

“No, no,” cried Ludovico, “you cannot do that ; 
Rosabel is my wife.” 

“When married ?” demanded the emperor. 

“This very day.” 

“Fair cousin,” said Otho, turning to the princess, 
who was leaning upon Hippolita for support, “was 
it of your own free will and accord that you gave 
your hand to Ludovico ?” 

“ No, no,” answered Rosabel, starting up. “ I 
was forced through it all, and not one promise did I 
make. In my soul, and before Heaven, I am not a 
wife !” 

“ But,” ventured Ludovico, grasping at the last 
hope, “ his holiness, the Pope, made her my wife, and 
his holy edict must stand.” 

“ I told you,” said Otho, “ that I could do more 
than make and unmake princes. I make and unmake 


Conclusion, 


229 


Popes ! Base, false man,” he continued, turning to 
John XVII., “ your career of vice and infamy is run, 
and your plots against the Emperor Otho have come 
to nought. I was in Rome not many days ago, 
where I cast the conspiring Consul into prison, and 
deposed you from the pontifical throne. And, sir, 
you behold the true Pope by my side. My faithful 
friend and teacher, the good Gerbert, has been 
raised to the holy seat, and I know that Christendom 
will be blessed in the change I have made. You 
can go back to your cloister of St. Marti, and there 
remain, in penance, through the rest of your days. ; 
What you have done, as Pope, since you left Rome 
six days ago, is null and void. Frederic Von Brunt, 
let him be taken hence, and do you see that he has 
safe escort to his convent !” 

When the trembling man had been led from the 
apartment, Otho turned to Rosabel. 

“ Now, sweet cousin,” he said, “ you shall wear 
smiles upon your face once more. You are not a 
wife, for he that professed to marry you was without 
authority. Still, I think there is one present to 
whom you would willingly give your hand. Am I 
not right ?” 

As he spoke the Emperor had advanced and 
extended his hand, and as the princess grasped it 
she bowed her head, murmuring, as she did so: 

“ Yes, sire. To one who is noble and true 
have I given my heart and pledged my lasting 
love.” 

“It is to Orlando Vendorme?” 

“ Yes.” 


230 


The Outcast of Milan, 


“ Then the work shall be finished where it has 
begun, and Manfred and his son shall behold the 
consummation. Come, Sir Orlando, and let me 
thus make full payment of the debt I owe thee.” He 
took the hand of the knight, and when he had 
placed within it the hand of Rosabel of Bergamo, 
he turned to Gerbert : “ Holy father, we await your 
benediction.” 

The new-made Pope moved forward, and when he 
had spoken those magic words which made Orlando 
Vendorme and Rosabel man and wife, the happy 
couple knelt before him and received his blessing. 

Then, by order of the Emperor, Manfred and 
Ludovico, and Hugh de Castro, with their imme- 
diate attendants, were removed from the apartment, 
and preparations were made for such a celebration 
as was fitting to the occasion. 

When news was carried to the people that Man- 
fred and Ludovico were in prison, and that Orlando 
Vendorme had been made ruler in Milan, and that 
Rosabel of Bergamo had been made his wife, 
such shouts of joy went up from the old city as 
had not been heard within its walls for long, long 
years. 

Our story of the Outcast is told, and we have 
only to add a few words touching the fates of those 
with whom we have become acquainted during the 
recital. 

Manfred and Ludovico were removed to Germany; 
where they both died in prison. Hugh de Castro 
was liberated on condition that he would leave Milan 
forever. 


Conclusion, 


231 


Michael Totilla was made captain of the guard, 
and right well did he fill the cTfifice. In time he won 
the golden spur, and few were the knights who cared 
to meet him in the list. 

Otho III., crowned Emperor at the age of three 
years, and crowned King of Rome at the age of fif- 
teen, was one of the wisest and most honorable 
monarchs of his time. The warm friendship which 
prompted him to elevate his old tutor, Gerbert, to 
the papal chair, as Gregory V., was extended to 
further acts ; and during the latter part of his reign, 
he so extended the power of the Pope, that, in after 
times, the See of Rome was able to dispute for 
temporal sovereignty with his imperial successors. 

Milan and Bergamo, united under the sway of 
Orlando and Rosabel, enjoyed a season of prosperity 
such as was rarely known in Lombardy , for the 
happy prince, whose home was the abode of so much 
pure joy, knew well how to make joy for his 
subjects. 


THE END. 


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